Phantom of the Concert Hall
by sparklingdmnd
Summary: Rewrite. Alternate Universe. EC. Christine Davenport is pining away for a spot at the Metropolitan Opera. To achieve this goal, she's sent on a summer internship with a reclusive French rockstar. Please read and review!
1. A Modest Proposal

A/N: To those of you that are new to this story, welcome! To those that are getting the author alert, welcome back. You may be wondering where I have been, or why I am updating the first chapter of an ongoing story – here is why.

I have been made aware of the new rules is enforcing about the no MA submissions. I clearly cross the line with my measly M rating. Heh. So, in order to keep my stories visible to people who enjoy them (thank you), I will be editing each chapter to be in line with the M rating. I apologize for the lack of lemons.

If you wish to read POTCH in all its sometimes steamy glory, you can find it on under the same penname.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for accepting the changes! XOXO

**Phantom of the Concert Hall**

**A Modest Proposal**

"Miss Davenport?"

Christine stared at the magazine that she was trying so desperately to read. The words were all blending together on the page; she was so excited about her meeting with her agent. Bradley Clark, a marketing executive from her potential label, Brightstar, had called her the previous morning and left her a wonderful message on her answering machine. She grew all the more nervous, as she recalled the message. He said that he had to speak to her, that he had big news and that it would change her career. If only she could calm her stupid nerves!

"Miss Davenport?"

Christine's head shot up with a start. "I'm sorry?" She asked the desk secretary that was looking at her with a curious expression. How long had she been trying to capture her attention? God, she needed to quit daydreaming so much.

"Mr. Clark will see you now." The secretary stated, sitting back down behind her desk. Christine was mortified as she stood up and straightened her skirt. The desk was across the room; she'd obviously had to get up and walk over to her to finally get her to pay attention.

"Thank you." Christine managed to squeak out as she strode past the desk and through the glass doors to the right of it. She took a deep breath and made her way down the hallway and to the right to the familiar door that bore her agent's name in gold lettering. This was it! Christine straightened her suit jacket for the thousandth time and knocked lightly on the wooden frame. She heard a response from the other side and opened the door, peering around it.

Bradley smiled at her from the other side of his mahogany desk. "Hi Christine! Come on in! I take it you received my message yesterday." He said brightly, standing up to usher her into the office.

Christine smiled and nodded. "Thank you for calling Mr. Clark. I'm here just as you asked me to be." She said, coming inside and shutting the door behind her.

Bradley walked up to her and shook her small hand, patting it with his larger one. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Bradley? I'm working for you remember?" He said with a chuckle.

Christine nodded again. 'Quit with the nodding!' She mentally chided herself. "Probably a few more times, but I'll get used to it eventually." She said, attempting to sound confident. Bradley shook his head and steered her towards the chair in front of his desk. Christine smoothed the back of her skirt down and sat, crossing her legs at the ankle. She knew on the outside she was the picture of sophistication, but inside she was a wreck.

Bradley crossed over to a small refrigerator and opened it up, pulling out a can of Coca-Cola for himself. He looked over at Christine from his still stooped state. "Would you like anything? A bottle of water maybe?" He asked.

"Water please." Christine answered. 'God I wish he would just get on with this!' She thought. Bradley fished through the rear of the fridge and produced a bottle of spring water. He handed it to her and she offered her thanks. Bradley popped the top on his drink and sat back down behind his desk. He then leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.

"Are you ready for the news?" He asked. Christine debated on throwing her drink at him and decided that she should probably refrain.

"The suspense is killing me." She answered honestly. Bradley chuckled and leaned forward in his seat.

"The Met has expressed interest in you and wants for you to complete an internship…" He began. Christine's stomach knotted up. They were interested! They liked her audition tapes! They wanted her to observe a fellow musician in her craft!

"…and we have found one for you if you would be so willing." He finished. Christine had to keep herself from jumping up and down.

"Of course I'm willing! I told you I would do whatever was necessary! This is wonderful!" She exclaimed. Her mind reeled. She was so close! This was going to be so easy! Her mental victory was interrupted by Bradley interjecting.

"Now now, hold on a second. There is a catch to this situation. It's minor, but you still need to be aware of it." He said, holding up his hands. Christine eyed him suspiciously.

"What are we getting at?" She asked. Bradley took a deep breath. He reached inside his desk and pulled a manila folder out and tossed it into her lap. Christine looked down at it, scared to see what was inside. What this so called catch was. After a few moments of deliberation, she opened it up and peered at the basic information. Her mouth fell open and her eyes flew to Bradley's. He was apparently awaiting the onslaught.

"A rock star. You want me to spend the entire summer interning for some self absorbed, drug induced rock star?" Christine slumped back into the desk chair, speechless. Bradley folded his hands over the desk with a sigh.

"Christine, I know that your idea of an appropriate internship is not cavorting around Europe with a French rock musician. I'm sorry, but if you desire that job at the Met as badly as you seem to, you must have field work. This tour is the best I can do." He stated.

Christine stared at him. "He's French? I have to learn fluent French too? She stared out the window of his New York office, watching the rain pour down. She was 23 years old, in her senior year at NYU and out in the world. She had been raised on strict rules and regulations, and this was very very reckless. She ran a hand through her dark curls nervously. She looked back up at her agent desperately.

"Mr. Clark, I don't know if I can do this. I was raised on the ballet, opera, orchestra...I've never even been to a rock concert before. I've never been in an environment like that. How can you expect me to do a fair job?" She pleaded.

Bradley looked at his young project, sympathetic. "Christine, I understand your position. You must understand me though. An opportunity like this does not come along often. I had to work very diligently to find this job for you. I urge you to consider. I cannot promise to find you another chance if you do not accept this one. And you don't have to learn French. They speak perfect English." He said softly.

Christine sighed. "I understand Mr. Clark. I am grateful to you for helping me land a job for the summer. Extremely grateful. I will take it." She said, defeated. She knew he was right.

"Smart girl." He murmured. He gestured toward the folder with a nod of his head. "Information on the tour and all the necessities you could possibly have a care about. Your lodgings, clothing, food, everything will be paid for. Those are your passes, and tickets to all the venues that your employer shall be playing at, should for some reason you require them." He offered. He then stood up from his chair and checked his watch.

"Christine, I am sorry to bustle you away like this, but I have another appointment in 5 minutes. If you have any other questions, please contact my secretary or email me if you would like." Christine nodded, finished with her attempts to get out of the tour, and walked toward the door. She slipped the folder into her bag as Bradley opened the door for her.

"Thank you, for everything." Christine said, trying to hide her displeasure with the situation.

Bradley smiled at her mischievously. "You leave tomorrow, by the way." He added.

Christine whirled around. "Tomorrow!" She choked. Bradley shut the door before she could rage another moment longer.

* * *

Christine shuffled into the living room of her apartment. She had finally finished packing every last item that she thought she could possibly need for the summer. She had called and made arrangements to have the payments for her apartment taken directly out of her account, and all of her affairs were in order. She sat down on the couch and stared out the window into the night.

'Leaving. For Paris. Tomorrow.' She thought.

She hugged her knees close to her chest and sighed deeply. She was frightened, but didn't know why. She'd never even left the island...and now she was going to travel through Europe? She knew she had made the right decision. There was nothing left for her here, not even family to draw her back to America, but she still couldn't help asking herself, 'how will this turn out?'

Christine's eyes darted to the file sticking out of her bag. She snatched up the thick folder and opened it, spreading the contents across the glass coffee table. The tour was for that of a young man that went by the name 'Phantom'. A picture was clipped to the edge of the tour logistics and she held it close to her face, studying her employer. It was a photograph taken live. The man was clasping both of his hands on the microphone before him, mouth wide. He appeared to be literally belting whatever it was that he was performing. He was handsome, but darkly so. He had dark hair, cut and styled into a short do. The black wisps were gelled up from his face, spiked. A normal hairstyle, one not becoming of a rock and roll musician. His eyes were shut tightly in concentration. The thing that drew her to him though, was the black mask that he wore. It concealed only one side of his face, leaving the imagination to wonder why he hid such handsome features. She raised an eyebrow.

"Must be a gimmick." Christine said aloud. She replaced the contents of the folder and leaned back into the leather of her couch. This Paris, this "Phantom", his fans...this music...would all be a culture shock for her. But was it something that she could learn to live with? She did not know. But she was certainly going to try.

* * *

That next morning, Christine found herself at the airport, luggage at either of her sides. She had been up for most of the night, torn between leaving and staying. She had been unable to force herself to think rationally and stay in New York with Paris dangling at her fingertips.

It was dangerous and irresponsible; completely out of character for Christine. But she wanted it so badly. She simply could not forget the wonderful internship that had been placed at her feet. So here she was, alone and nervous as a cat as she waited to be checked by the customs department. After what seemed like hours of security checks, and long unruly lines, Christine finally boarded the plane. She settled into her first class window seat of the 747, and tried to relax. She had never flown before, and the idea did not please her. Instead of focusing on the coming plane ride, she tried to lean back and focus on the good aspects of her trip.

First there was Europe. She'd always dreamed of Paris ever since she was a child. She had loved looking at books about the Eiffel Tower. This was her chance to finally see that grand monument. Then there was perhaps landing that job at the Met. She had always dreamed of becoming a member of the illustrious Metropolitan Opera. This field work was her ticket to stardom. And she was more than willing to help make those dreams come true, no matter what.

"Ahem." Christine looked up to see a girl staring down upon her.

"Can I help you?" She asked. The girl smiled. "Oh no. This seat beside you is mine. I just thought it would be better to announce my presence before I simply sat down and scared the living daylights out of you." She laughed.

The girl smoothed out her skirt and then sat down. She was blonde, petite, and graceful. Her blue eyes held a kindness in them that made Christine feel instantly at ease. She turned to Christine and extended her hand. "My name is Meghan Giry. But you can call me Meg." She said with a grin. Christine took her hand and squeezed it. "Christine Davenport." She offered. This Meg nodded and released her hand. "Please pardon my forwardness, but are you French?" Christine asked.

Meg laughed. "I guess I do not hide my accent very well. Yes, I am from Paris." Meg said.

"You speak excellent English though." Christine added. Meg brightened. "Thank you! It is nice to be told that by an American." She said. Meg reached down into her into her bag and pulled out a leather bound book. Gold trim graced the front cover with her name, Meghan Giry, written in a flowing script. Next to it was an engraved figure of a ballerina.

Christine pointed to it. "Do you dance Meg?" She asked. Meg nodded, the smile never leaving her face. "I am in the ballet corps at the Paris Opera." She stated. Christine leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "I would love to be skilled enough to become a ballerina in the opera. Actually, I would love to be the lead soprano." Christine said dreamily. She suddenly realized she was blabbing her life's ambitions to a stranger.

Christine flushed. "Forgive me for babbling on so."

Meg squeezed her hand. "You're not babbling. Hopefully that dream shall come true for you. Is that why you are traveling to France?" She asked, opening the cover of the leather booklet. It appeared to be her journal.

"Sort of. I'm completing my necessary field work so that I may be considered for a spot in the chorus line at the Metropolitan Opera House here in New York." She answered, turning to look at her new companion.

"I see. What exactly is this field work you are completing? An internship I am assuming." Meg asked, as she busily scratched along in her journal. Christine relaxed as she talked to Meg. "Precisely. I'm to begin touring with some rock and roll musician that calls himself the Phantom or something." She sighed. Meg slammed the cover of her book shut.

"Are you really? My mother is the Phantom's manager!" She squealed. Their conversation was interrupted by the voice of the pilot over the intercom. They were about to take off. The girls fastened their seatbelts and readied for take off. Christine tried hard not to focus on the plane, but on her and Meg's conversation. Meg leaned toward Christine as the plane thundered down the runway.

"Because my mother works for the Phantom, I'll be on the tour as well." She whispered. Christine smiled, grateful that she had a potential friend along the way. "Small world, isn't it?" She murmured, digging her fingers into the arm rests as the plane rose from the runway. "Tell me about this Phantom person. He's not well known in America, but then again, rock music is my cup of tea." Christine admitted. Meg shrugged. "There is not much to tell actually. No one really knows anything, not even his fans. He doesn't reveal too much about himself. Everyone prefers to make their own assumptions and the Phantom is alright with that. He adds to his mystery." She responded, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a package of crackers and offered some to Christine, who took a couple.

"That's very odd Meg. I wish there was more that you could tell me about him." Christine declared as she popped a cracker into her mouth. Meg swallowed. "I wish there were too. I've been around him most of my life and he's a perfect stranger. Only Maman knows anything about him. I do not even know his real name." She said sheepishly.

Christine was starting to have real concerns about this Phantom. No one even knew anything about him. How was she supposed to be his intern?

They chatted idly about the tour and Paris and about Christine's life in New York. Eventually, they neared the end of their flight. The attendants came down through the aisles and informed the passengers that they were on final descent to Paris, and that they should fasten their seat belts once more. Well here she was; about as informed as she was before she started. But at least she had made a new friend. She looked down onto the city of Paris, growing ever larger every second.


	2. Meetings

A/N: Wow, I am so thrilled by all of the nice responses I received from chapter 1! It's so nice to know that you all approve so much of the revision and are so supportive! You guys rock. ) You're all very encouraging and I appreciate it so much.

Here's the next installment. Hopefully I'll be able to pop these out pretty quickly this time. I'm only taking classes two days a week this go around and working three days a week. I started my field experience for elementary school teaching this morning so I am walking on cloud nine!

Now that you've listened to me rattle, here's chapter two. Please tell me what you think! I've done some research for this chapter, and the Bercy Palias Omnisports truly exists in Paris. Feel free to google it if you would like to get an idea of what the venue looks like. )

As usual, I do not own any concept of the Phantom of the Opera, I only wish that I were so creative. All that I own are the thoughts in my head. ) Enjoy!

**Chapter Two: Meetings**

"You look as nervous as a cat, you do." Meg chided as she and a jumpy Christine sat in the back of a sleek black automobile. Christine had been surprised to see that someone was waiting at the terminal gate for them to arrive. She half expected to be stuck wandering around Paris trying to find someone to help her that actually spoke English. She was relieved to discover otherwise.

"I can't help it. This is all so unreal to me." Christine replied as she glanced out the window. Paris was a beautiful as she had hoped and she could not wait to travel around the city. She had secretly hoped that she would have been able to do so that very day, but she was shocked an unnerved to find that she and Meg were to be immediately whisked to the performance center where this so called "Phantom" was performing a show that evening.

Meg giggled and placed a hand on the nervous female's jittery knee. "Would you like for me to go with you when you meet him? I swear he won't bite you, but I will go with you just the same." She offered. Christine looked at her with a relieved smile.

"I would like that." She admitted. Meg nodded and sat back in her seat.

"We'll be there in just a few more minutes."

* * *

In the rear of the concert venue, Bercy Palias Omnisports, a door opened into a blackened dressing room. Light spilled softly into the small space and a calm Antoinette Giry stepped inside. She shut the door inaudibly behind her, and looked around. She squinted her green eyes to focus through the blackness of the room. She held a shirt made of a filmy material in her right hand and her other was propped up on her hip. 

"Erik are you decent, dear?" She asked, studying the pitch dark room for any sign of his presence. She heard soft laughter seep from the corner of the room.

"Would you have truly cared if I had not been?" a dark voice asked, amused. A floor lamp clicked on and the room became illuminated in a soft glow. Erik lounged in his chair, leaning back against the cushions. His thick black hair fell lifelessly across his brow, not yet styled and giving him a very rugged look. The rugged appearance did not go well with his tight black jeans and bare chest. He looked up at Antoinette with a smirk, propping his chin upon his knuckles. She frowned and tossed the shirt she had been holding on to his lap.

"You need to be getting ready Erik. It would not do for you to go on like that." She said, running her hand along his messy hairline. Erik stood in one smooth, fluid movement and pulled the slinky article over his head. The sleeveless tank showed off well toned arms and shoulders. Erik looked at his appearance in the mirror, and nodded approvingly. He moved to his dressing table and sat down, massaging his temples. Antoinette sat down in the chair he had vacated and cleared her throat. Erik turned his head toward her.

"I need to speak with you about something." She said after a time. Erik turned in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. "I am listening." He said softly. "It is about the American intern I told you about Erik. She is..." Antoinette began. Erik waved his hand to silence her. "I am aware of every aspect of this new little addition that you have hired against my wishes. She is a dainty little American dancer, is she not? Does that honestly sound anything like the appropriate description of someone who should be following along on this tour?" He asked, his voice masking his displeasure.

Antoinette sighed. "Erik, forgive my lack of communication and my impulsiveness but I believed that her presence would be beneficial for this tour. She is not exactly what you may have had in mind, but you must trust me. Her credentials are impeccable." She said.

Erik's eyes narrowed but he did not let his temper get the best of him. "Very well. I will expect you to keep an eye on this girl. I will not have her roaming around aimlessly and getting into things that she need not be in." He said roughly, knowing that it was pointless to fight with her.

Antoinette smiled, pleased with herself. "Thank you for understanding." She stood up to leave. "Now finish putting yourself together. You will be meeting the girl before the performance." She said, walking toward the door. Erik nodded and turned back around in his chair as she shut the door.

* * *

Christine looked out of the window of the car as it pulled to a stop in the rear of a large building that she assumed was the venue that her employer was performing at. Meg gathered her belongings and Christine followed suit. "Do not worry about our luggage. It will be taken to the hotel that we will be staying in tonight." Meg assured. Christine nodded and remained silent. The door opened and Meg slid from her seat, her heels clicking on the pavement as she stood. Christine was out of the car right behind her and she looked up at the venue. It rose hundreds of feet into the air, creating a menacing shadow over everything around it. 

"Stop gawking. You do not want the concert to be late on our behalf do you?" Meg teased, ushering Christine away from the car and up to the doorway. Meg tapped on the door and a waited a few moments. A small opening appeared in the door so that a security guard could talk. He barked something in French and Meg answered him. Within seconds, the door opened and the bulky man stood aside for the pair to enter. Christine was not at all comfortable in her surroundings and clung to her new friend's side. Meg shook her head.

"He's not a vampire Christine, relax." She said, leading her down a darkened hallway. Christine frowned. "Oh I don't care what he is. I am out of my element is all." She said quickly.

In truth, Christine was quite nervous about meeting this "Phantom. If no one knew anything about him, not even his real name, then how was she supposed to know how to talk to him? Meg raised an eyebrow to her as they stopped in front of another door.

"I would certainly care." She declared. Another burly bodyguard stood in front of the door, and stepped aside as Meg approached. "Evening." He said. Meg nodded in acknowledgement and yanked Christine through the doorway. Meg stopped again in front of the second door. She turned to Christine and surveyed her appearance. She was quite laid back looking, jeans and a t-shirt, appropriate for the evening, and her hair up and away from her face. Meg tapped her chin, and then moved her hand to Christine's ponytail.

"May I?" She asked. Christine looked puzzled, but nodded. Meg pulled the elastic from her hair and the dark waves tumbled down around her back and shoulders. "Much better." Meg said, pleased. Christine smiled. 'If you say so.' She thought, finger combing the mess. Meg looked smug as she turned back to the door and knocked. There was movement inside and a short, but defiant looking woman answered the door. Her stern expression melted and she gathered Meg in a tight hug. Christine assumed the woman to be her mother.

"Oh how I've missed you this week! How is your father?" The woman asked, patting Meg's back. Meg leaned back in the embrace. "Papa is well. He's as stubborn and strict as ever." She joked. Christine made a mental note to herself for later. She had been wondering what Meg had been doing in New York.

Meg pulled away and turned toward Christine. "Maman, this is Christine Davenport. We actually met on the plane on the way from New York. Who would have thought that we would have been on the same flight!" She laughed. Christine smiled and held out her hand to the older woman. She smiled and took it, giving it a firm shake.

"Ah, Miss Davenport. It is so nice to meet our lovely new intern. My name is Antoinette Giry." She said, her French accent causing Christine to smile. She loved foreign dialects!

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well Madame Giry." She said with a nod of her head. The woman smiled at her manners. "Very good my dear but there is no need to use formalities on me. Antoinette shall do just fine." She said tapping the girl's shoulder lightly. She then opened the door wider and ushered Meg inside. Antoinette entered and held out her hand to Christine, who took up the rear. Christine saw a young man leaning against the wall, hands inside his pockets, apparently deep in thought. She studied him for a moment and realized that he was the same man from the picture that Bradley had provided for her. He was very handsome, just as she thought he would be. She gulped and waited to be introduced.

"I would like you to meet your new intern." Antoinette began, not addressing him like Christine thought she would. She pulled Christine out from behind Meg and guided her towards the man. "This is Christine Davenport."

Christine gulped as Antoinette's hand firmly guided her close to him. 'What if he thinks I'm ridiculous?!' Christine's mind raced.

"Christine, this is our Phantom." Antoinette said.

Christine was startled to be thrust into the center of the room; She had not been prepared for this. The Phantom looked up at her, his amber eyes glowing inside of his half mask. At first he appeared to be annoyed, then when he looked down at Christine, his glare faded into that of a strange softness. Christine felt at a loss for words, the man's presence being enough to silence her. She smiled up at him and bowed her head in acknowledgement.

The Phantom smirked and strode to where she stood, his graceful movements drawing Christine to stare. He clasped her hand, and bent his head to her knuckles, pressing his lips to them. He straightened and stared down at her. "It is a pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle. Welcome to France."

Christine stared at the man before her with his lips curled against her fingers. He was so dark, but so intriguing. She snapped out of her silence when she realized that she was staring at him in a dazed stupor.

"Thank you Monsieur. It is a pleasure to meet you." She said softly, withdrawing her hand from his fingertips. The Phantom smiled up at her and straightened to full height once more. He swept around her and toward the door. Meg and Antoinette moved to the side to let the musician exit. He turned in the doorway to look back at Christine.

"You may watch the performance from backstage if you would like. I shall have seating arranged for you." He said softly, and vanished down the dark hallway. Christine blinked and stared after him, his aftershave lingering behind him. She looked toward Antoinette and she shrugged.

"You don't have to ask. I will agree with you automatically. That is positively the oddest man I have ever laid eyes on my dear. I must confess he usually does not take well to complete strangers. He seemed...well...comfortable with your presence." Antoinette stated. Christine did not know whether or not to feel flattered or frightened. He seemed as though he could stare straight into her soul, and some one having that sort of power over her made her feel quite small. She looked down at her toes, embarrassed to have been reduced to a silent mess.

"Come now Christine, would you like to watch the show?" Meg inquired, trying to lighten her friend's demeanor. Christine looked up and forced a smile. "I would enjoy it if you watched with me." She said. Meg nodded and took her arm, leading the girl down the hallway. Antoinette took up the rear and massaged her temples as she walked. 'Erik is never that corgial to complete strangers. He's known Meg for years and he's not even that nice to her.' She pondered. She shrugged it off, thinking that she was over analyzing the situation.

Meg led them to the rear of the stage. Sure enough there were seats around the right wing of the stage, so that when the curtain opened they could see the Phantom, but the crowd could not see them. Christine found a seat and breathed in deeply. She was still quite nervous after her encounter with the Phantom, but she knew that she must get over that feeling of insecurity or she would never be of any use to him or his employees. She looked down beside her and found a small table with bottled water and tea sandwiches on a platter. She sighed and grabbed a bottle, letting the cool liquid rush down her throat, calming her nerves.

Meg patted her shoulder. "You did very well with him. Most people get so nervous that they can't even function." She said. Christine smirked. "Or speak." She said, poking fun at herself. Meg laughed and so did her mother. "At least he spoke to you Christine. That says a lot." Antoinette said stifling her laughter as the Phantom walked to the edge of the curtain. His dark outfit went well with the mysterious feel about him. His hands were now clad in black leather gloves, the fingers cut out of them. His hands looked strong as they held onto his microphone, and adjusted his ear piece. His ear piece enabled him to control the amount of feedback he received through a small transmitter fastened to the back of his jeans. He was wired through the sound crew and ready to perform. In a way, Christine was anxious to hear this music of his. She had grown up on nothing but operas and musicals. This rock and roll was new to her. The Phantom noticed her staring and looked into her eyes. She blushed and looked away, her water bottle becoming quite interesting all of the sudden. He smirked and looked out on to the stage. The screaming had begun. Christine heard a booming voice over the loud speakers through the concert hall, announcing the Phantom. He took a deep breath and calmly walked out onto the stage. His fans burst into a fit of screaming as he walked across the stage, the beginning chords of his first song flowing from the guitarist at his back. Christine settled into her chair to watch him perform. The Phantom was at ease on the stage. The guitar blared behind him as he opened his mouth to sing, the spotlights settling onto the musician.

_I would swallow my pride, I would choke on the rinds  
But the lack there of would leave me empty inside  
Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out  
Find nothing but faith in nothing  
Wanna put my tender heart in a blender  
Watch it spin around to a beautiful oblivion  
Rendevouz then I'm through with you _

Christine stared at him as is haunting voice filled the auditorium. She was not used to this sort of music, but it intrigued her. His words enlightened her, his voice awakened her. The crowd screamed madly, singing along with their star. Their hands thrust into the air, some grabbing at fistfulls of air trying to get a hold of the Phantom, but he was simply out of their reach.

_I burn, burn like a wicker cabinet  
Chalk white and oh so frail  
I see our time has gotten stale  
The tick tock of the clock is painful  
All sane and logical, I wanna tear it off the wall  
I hear words in clips and phrases.  
I think sick like ginger ale  
My stomach turns and I exhale._

Christine sat up rigid in her chair. His voice was so pained, but so achingly beautiful even as he belted those notes over the loud roar of the fans and his band. Erik opened his eyes and stared out at his audience, voice strengthening as he grew more confident. He was so devastating, so moving that she hardly noticed that there was anyone else in the entire arena. He performed with such grace yet such…energy that she got lost in his voice and the lyrics of his song.

_I alone am the one you don't know you need  
Take heed, feed your ego  
Make me blind with my eyes closed  
Sink when you get close  
Tie me to the bed post_

Christine shut her eyes, as he sang the rest of his song with the passion of someone wise beyond their years in the pain of love. Meg glanced over at Christine and smiled, knowing that his song was capturing her too. The Phantom smiled wickedly, knowing that the screams that erupted around him were meant to state their approval of his efforts. He looked at the drummer and nodded, the drummer obeying and starting the next song.

* * *

...the song above is entitled "Inside Out" by Eve 6. 


	3. One and Only Desire

A/N: Hi again everyone! I'm pleased to give you guys another chapter! Thanks goes out to everyone for sticking with me and waiting for me during my story recovery process. This chapter is dedicated to Allistair for recovering the original and sending it my way! You rock so much!

Without further ado, the next re-written chapter. )

* * *

**Chapter 3: One and Only Desire**

Christine watched the Phantom's fans in awe. They cried out to him, clawing at the barricades before them, desperately trying to reach him. Some of them were in tears; others were compelled to join his beautiful voice as he sang. Each of them reacted differently, but one thing was common among them. He had captivated them completely. He had performed a good fifteen songs by now and they were still completely and utterly entranced.

The Phantom was kneeling on the cold floor of the stage, breathing heavily from a particularly demanding song. His muscular chest rose and fell with each breath that he took and sweat beaded on his handsome brow on the portion of his face that was showing. He looked out at the fans that were screaming their approval at him. He grinned slyly, knowing that his exhausting efforts were not in vain. He brought the microphone to his lips once more.

"Am I your one and only desire?" He breathed, his raspy voice filling the venue with color.

The crowd screamed in response to his question. Christine looked on in wonderment as he slowly got to his feet, showing more grace than she had ever seen in a man. He rose onto those muscular legs as smooth as a dancer would. Entranced by his smooth movements, she slid to the edge of her seat.

Meg grinned as she watched Christine's response to the Phantom's performance. She was learning just how appealing the mystery around him could be.

The music played lightly in the background as a faint spotlight followed the entertainer to center of the stage once more. He fitted the microphone back onto the stand and the spotlight went out and the music faded. The anticipation was so thick in the arena that even Christine was searching frantically for where on earth the masked man had disappeared to. From the silence rang a deep voice a capella.

_I hear a voice say don't be so blind  
It's telling me all these things  
That you would probably hide_

His voice rang throughout the concert hall, everyone falling silent in its' wake. He breathed and continued, taking the chilling song at an achingly slow pace. No music accompanied his breathtaking voice. He still remained in the dark, his visage completely hidden from the audience. Christine closed her eyes as she listened to his dark voice, the timber of it turning her limbs into liquid. She felt silly for being so into the Phantom's performance, but she could not help it. He was a master at his craft.

_Am I your one and only desire?  
Am I the reason you breathe?  
Or am I the reason you cry?_

Christine closed her eyes as he murmured the simple word in a repeated crescendo, the music growing in strength behind his vocals and a guitar creating suspenseful tones.

_Always..._

The hushed audience listened attentively as his hushed voice grew louder in strength and in volume.

_I just can't live without you._

The spotlights shown once more on the stage revealing the Phantom at the center microphone as he had been before. The fans began to scream as they realized that the suspenseful guitar chords were coming from none other than the masked performer himself. He strummed a blood red guitar forcefully, creating a power background to his voice.

_I love you, I hate you  
I can't get around you  
I breathe you, I taste you  
I can't live without you  
I just can't take anymore  
This life of solitude  
I guess that I'm out the door  
And now I'm done with you_

Christine was intrigued by his guitar playing. It probably seemed normal for a rock and roll band; the lead singer doubling as an electric guitarist. It made sense. The idea of this man playing an instrument though gave the notion that much more appeal. He made it look downright…sexy. She mentally scolded herself for thinking such a thing. Besides, he was mysterious and she was not supposed to be happy to be in this position. She was coming to like the arrangement though.

The Phantom closed his eyes as he bellowed into his microphone, never missing a hit on his guitar. His black hair fell loosely across his sweaty brow, making a sharp contrast to his deep green eyes. His mask was stark in the beam of light. Christine allowed her eyes to follow every movement of his elegant form.

_I feel like you don't want me around  
I guess I'll pack all my things  
I guess I'll see you around  
It's all been bottled up until now  
As I walk out your door  
All I can hear is the sound  
Always..._

He repeated the chorus and Christine fell back in her seat, exhausted and warm from his tantalizing vocals. She glanced up at Meg and saw the smirk on the girl's face. Christine frowned. She knew! She knew that he would have this effect on her! 'That's silly' Christine thought to herself. She barely knew Meg so she couldn't be expecting her to know how something would affect her. Her eyes returned to the stage as she heard him belt.

_I wrapped my head around your heart..._

_Why would you tear my world apart?_

The crowd screamed as the words slipped off his tongue. He turned as the band played through the rift and he placed his guitar on its stand behind him. He stepped forward and took the microphone from the stand once more and began to walk down the catwalk and into the crowd. They screamed and jumped up to try and touch him to no avail. When he reached the end of the catwalk, he sank down onto his knees. He cradled the microphone in both of his gloved hands and sang softly, almost a whisper.

_I see the blood all over your hands  
Does it make you feel more like a man?  
Was it all just a part of your plan?  
The pistol's shaking in my hands  
And all I hear is the sound..._

Meg placed a hand on Christine's shoulder and she glanced back at her.

"He's magnificent isn't he?" She whispered. Christine nodded and returned her eyes to his impassioned form. The Phantom finished his last number and took a low bow before trudging up the catwalk and off of the stage. When he slipped through the curtain, he pulled out his earpiece and sound feed attached to his belt and handed them to a stage hand. Another member of his crew came and took his microphone from him before scurrying away with the other crew member. Antoinette had removed herself from Meg and Christine's presence during the Phantom's final number and she had reappeared before him with a white towel.

She handed him the linen and he draped it across his broad shoulders before accepting the bottle of water she also carried. He took it with a nod of thanks and consumed it greedily. He wiped his damp face on the towel, careful not to dislodge his mask. Christine looked on at the simple scene with thoughtfulness. The two seemed to be closer than manager and musician. Antoinette looked at him in almost motherly way.

The Phantom was completely exhausted, and seemed all the more human because of it. He was taken away by a team of bodyguards, and never spoke a word to anyone. The fans in the venue still screamed as the Phantom towards the exit of the building. One of the men standing near the back exit came rushing over to Antoinette and said something in her ear. The woman nodded exasperation clear on her face. Christine got to her feet when she spotted Antoinette waving to her and Meg. She looked frustrated and tired.

Christine picked up her purse from beside her chair and followed Meg over to where her mother was standing.

"Change of plans girls. Word leaked out to the press, and there are a swarm of fans camped out at the Phantom's hotel. We will have to spend the night on the bus." She explained as she took each of them by the arm and began to hustle them towards the door. Meg groaned and Christine wondered if staying on the bus were really that bad. Christine watched as he luggage disappeared out the door at the end of the hallway and she looked to Antoinette.

"Your luggage and other belongings are being carried to the bus. I'm afraid that space on the staff and crew buses are limited. You will be sleeping in the spare bunk on the Phantom's bus."

Christine felt panic grow inside of her at these words. The Phantom's bus?!

Christine's face betrayed her apprehension. "Are you positive that I would not be intruding on his privacy? I wouldn't take much room in one of the crew buses." She asked. She was not sure that he would like company, he seemed to keep to himself, and she was sure that given the chance she would most likely say something stupid to him and humiliate herself.

Antoinette waved the idea off. "Nonsense. You are not sleeping on any floor! You are staying on the Phantom's bus. He did not object when I reported it to him." She said, wandering toward the door that the Phantom had exited through.

Christine sighed. 'He probably didn't say anything.' She thought, following silently behind the older woman. This was going to be a long night. When the side door opened and Antoinette stepped out into the night, the lights were blinding. There were fans and media at every turn. Christine held her hand up to shield her eyes from the ongoing glare as cameras flashed all around her. "Remind me to wear my sunglasses next time." She muttered to Meg.

Meg took up the rear, laughing at her comment, pushing gently on Christine's back to urge her forward.

Christine saw the Phantom quickly approaching his tour bus, a bodyguard on all sides. People around the musician thrust photographs and papers in his face, all hoping to attract his attentions. The Phantom simply smiled at his admirers and brushed past the sea of onlookers.

Antoinette helped guide the girls through the mob and to the foot of the stairs leading onto the bus. She stepped back to the side, allowing Christine to board first. Christine glanced back over her shoulder in apprehension. If only one of them could stay with her. Antoinette sensed her fears and smiled at her.

"We shall be following behind you on the next bus. Don't worry so much, we shall see each other in the morning. Take care Mademoiselle." Antoinette stated.

She motioned to the driver and he shut the doors on the fast approaching mob. Meg waved through the window and followed her mother to the next bus.

"Mademoiselle, I suggest you find a seat. I would hate to speed away and you topple down those stairs." He said with a chuckle. He fastened his seat belt as he waited for her to proceed.

Christine nodded to the driver and continued up the stairs, settling into a couch behind the driver. The bus thundered away from the venue, leaving behind the swarm of people in its wake. She watched as the fans ran behind the bus for a short distance. These people were crazy!

Christine sighed in relief and leaned back into the cushions. She looked about her surroundings with interest. Everything in the elaborate vehicle was shrouded in silks and velvets, a palace on wheels. The makeshift home was fit for a king, and unbecoming of the rocker she had just watched perform.

'He obviously has impeccable taste.' She thought. She glanced up at the driver's seat.

"Monsieur, who else is staying on this bus? Antoinette told me I could use the spare bunk, so I'm wondering who has the others." She asked, wondering where everyone could be. The driver chuckled.

"I'm afraid you are the only other person on this bus. There is only one bunk as the Phantom never has guests."

Christine's eyes popped open. Alone. With the Phantom. She barely even knew this man, and now she was being left completely alone with him? This was madness.

Christine took a deep breath and let it out. This night just got better and better, she thought sarcastically.

'I must keep my cool,' she thought to herself. 'If he knows I'm nervous it'll only make matters worse.' She tried to calm herself, but kept finding herself digging her fingers into the plush couch she was sitting on. She was going to skin her new friend for this. She could picture Meg's face when she had walked away from the bus, she could have warned her!

How could they leave her alone with him already? She didn't even know his name!

She had been sitting there for quite sometime contemplating all the reasons why this was a bad situation when she heard a door open. Christine looked up to see the Phantom standing in the doorway.

He was clad in dark pants that melded to his still damp form. The mask was still upon his handsome face, making him look all the more unapproachable. He stood there looking at Christine, his hair wet and causing streams of water to run down his bare chest.

Christine tried to tear her eyes away from him with little success. She stared down at the floor, red seeping into her cheeks. 'Great.' She thought.

"We meet again mademoiselle. I do apologize for my appearance, for I am not used to having anyone but Charles on my bus. I forget myself. Please excuse me for a moment while I go and collect a shirt." He said, his angelic voice floating through the air. He turned and exited down the dark hallway into an undisclosed section of the bus.

Christine tried to shrug off the blush that still ruled her face, but felt completely mortified for staring at his half naked form. What was wrong with her?

A moment later the Phantom returned with his hair slicked back from his face and a simple black t-shirt on. He quietly strode to where Christine was sitting and sat on the couch across from her with a soft sigh. He really was exhausted. She watched him carefully, not quite knowing what to say to him.

He leaned back against the pillows and breathed deeply, allowing his tired form to relax. He said nothing to the trembling girl in front of him. While she was thankful not to have to speak, she almost wished he would say something. This silence was making her a nervous wreck.

After a moment, she decided she should say something and Christine cleared her throat. "Would you like for me to leave?" She asked, commenting on his continued silence. The Phantom lowered his gaze to her and smiled.

"Oh, on the contrary my dear. I would like to get to know you if you shall permit our conversation." He said softly. Christine slowly nodded.

"First off mademoiselle, would you be terribly offended if I tuned my guitar while we speak?" He asked his voice pure heaven. Christine shook her head. It made her feel a little better that he would be paying attention to his guitar and that his undivided attention wouldn't be on her.

"No monsieur, but would you mind calling me Christine? Mademoiselle seems far too formal. I'm afraid that my being an American doesn't give me much of a mind for formalities." She said softly. The Phantom picked up the acoustic guitar in the stand next to him and smirked at her.

"Very well. Then I would prefer that you not refer to me a monsieur, Christine." He replied, running his fingers down the strings.

Christine swallowed and looked at her knees. The Phantom glanced up at the silent girl every so often and he tuned the instrument.

"Your show was magnificent." Christine managed to blurt out. He smiled at her.

"Thank you very much Christine. I assumed that my music would not be your cup of tea." He answered. Christine looked up at him. "Pardon me?" She asked.

"You are an aspiring opera star, are you not?" He asked gently. Christine shook her head.

"No, not the star. I wish to be in the chorus." Christine answered. His eyes darkened and he shook his head with a frown.

"That is unfortunate. One must aim high to achieve anything in this world." He said. Christine remained silent. He continued to look at her.

"Nevermind my dear. Forget that I said it. I am very honored to have met you, but now I must retire. I am sorry that I cannot partake in this wonderful conversation any longer." He said, standing up. He placed the guitar back into the stand and was silent for a moment as he looked down at her.

"I do believe I should show you where you will be sleeping before I retire. That would be the role of an honorable host I suppose." He said gingerly.

Christine rose and followed the dark stranger through the hallway. He stopped and opened a small partition in the wall. It revealed a twin sized bed and over head compartment.

"I'm afraid that this is the best sleeping accommodations I can offer. I hope that it will be suitable." He offered. Christine nodded and sat down upon the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"Thank you. This will be just fine." She said. He turned to exit to his own chambers. She paused for a moment before speaking once more.

"Goodnight...sir." She called after him. What was she supposed to call him? He stopped in midstep and turned. He smiled darkly and nodded to her.

"Goodnight Christine." He said, continuing to walk away. Christine was fumbling with her luggage when he continued to speak as he retreated.

"And please, in the future, call me Erik."

* * *

So I changed it up a little. The Phantom plays guitar. ) What did you think? Please review! The song used was "Always" by Saliva.


	4. Eavesdropping

A/N: Thanks so much for all of your nice comments! I'm excited that so many people were still waiting on me to come back! You guys rock! Here's another installment of Phantom of the Concert Hall! I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Four

It was early in the morning when Christine was roused from her sleep. She was not a heavy sleeper by any means, and something brought her back to consciousness. Being a creature of habit, she rolled over onto her side and fumbled through the bag that lay next to her small bunk and pulled out her cellular phone. It was only three in the morning. Christine yawned, wondering what woke her up so suddenly when a sound caught her ears. She paused and listened. It was music that she was hearing. It was very sweet, light, and heart felt. The soft strains of the beautiful melody compelled her to shake the sleep from her tired body and sit up in bed.

Christine glanced at her cellular phone again, rubbing her eyes as the time was brought to her attention once again. The sound was not very loud at all and she probably should have tried to go back to sleep. She shook her head though, knowing it would be impossible with the way her curious mind worked. Resigned to investigate the sound that she heard, she tossed the sheets off of her legs and placed her feet onto the floor.

She stood up and instantly grabbed side of bunk frame for support. The driver had obviously made a sharp turn, and brought Christine back to her realization that she was still on the bus. She laughed lightly at her forgetfulness and thought to be more careful while moving around the vehicle.

She remembered that she and the Phantom were the only two passengers on the bus that night. Could the beautiful music be coming from Erik's room? She smiled as she repeated his name to herself internally. It was a very handsome name, and she felt privileged to know it. The music was so sweet and she found it hard to believe that something so soft and soothing could be to the liking of someone like Erik. She contemplated the man she had known for a few hours before pursuing the notion that the music was coming from him.

The thick skinned rock star that he appeared to be on stage displayed nothing but hard rock and roll and sweat. When he was off stage though, he was debonair, brilliant and...a gentleman actually. She shook her head at the thought that she had pegged him to be nothing but a drug induced celebrity originally. He was still but a mystery to her, and she knew that he very well may always be one. He did not seem the type to let many people into his private world.

None the less, she picked up the blanket from the bed and draped it over her shoulders. Careful not to be thrown of balance by the rocking of the vehicle, she reached the door and stepped into the narrow hallway that her bunk opened out into.

It was very dark, the only light being that of the headlights on the road. She squinted at the driver, thankful that he seemed to be awake enough to drive them safely. The bus was cold too. Christine shivered and huddled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. The music was clearer now. It was most definitely coming from the rear of the bus. Against her better judgment, Christine made her way down the hall. Once or twice the bus would take a turn and she would be forced to grab onto the wall for support. She winced as she hit the wall with a thud. She felt foolish to be investigating like she was, and with her luck the bus tossing her around would give her away

Hoping not to make any more noise, Christine slid to the floor next to the closed door that she presumed to be Erik's. The dim light from underneath the door gave her an odd sort of comfort in the darkness of the vehicle, and she quietly leaned her head against the cool wood of the door to listen.

The music was pure beauty. She could not help but smile at the enchanting tune. When the vocals began on the track Christine wrinkled her brow. Could he possibly be listening to opera? She instantly recognized the voice as that of Charlotte Church. Taken back by the fact that the Phantom of all people was listening to the singer's younger works, she chuckled softly. She had to tell Meg about this when she saw her. The Phantom was listening to Charlotte Church. It was laughable, but she did have to commend him on his good taste. As she listened, she heard something else along with the beautiful soprano. Christine strained to hear what else was going on inside Erik's bedroom. A soft sound matched the sweet vocals in the background. Then she realized what it was. Erik was singing.

His formerly harsh, but enticing voice was gone. It was rich and captivating. His beautiful baritone began to softly ring out over Charlotte's. It sent shivers down Christine's spine as she heard the restrained vibrato spill forth from his lips.

_I wish I was in Carrickfergus,  
where the castle looks out to sea.  
I would swim over the deepest ocean,  
for my love to be with me._

But the sea is wide,  
and I cannot swim over.  
Nor have I,  
the wings to fly.

Christine sighed softly as she listened to his beautiful voice. How long had he been hiding this talent? Did Antoinette know what a wonderful baritone he was? Why did he sing rock music when he had a voice so achingly beautiful? She had so many questions that she would most likely never get answers to. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she did not realize that the door she had been hidden behind had opened. As the light spilled onto her, she opened her eyes and stared up at Erik. A deep flush crept up her cheeks and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. She stumbled to her feet in a failing attempt to look more ladylike rather than the lump she was in on the floor.

He had caught her eavesdropping.

"Monsieur...I...I..." She began, stumbling over her own words, embarrassed. Erik placed a finger over his lips, silencing her explanation. He looked perfectly calm, perhaps even a little amused.

"Christine, all you need to do is knock if you wish to gain entry. I can assure you that it holds the same meaning in France as it does in America. And I do believe I asked you to call me Erik." He said his voice velvet to her ears.

Before Christine could open her mouth to protest, he had stepped aside to allow her entry to his bedroom. She tried to gather what was left of her dignity and straightened the blanket around her shoulders, when all she wanted to do was crawl back to her little bunk and hide. She sighed, and walked into the room.

She marveled at the surroundings. For a bedroom on a tour bus, his chambers looked like they could have been a room in a palace. Every inch of wood or material was rich in color and feel. She couldn't help but gawk at his furnishings. The door shut behind her with a soft click. Christine turned to look at him, her embarrassment still apparent on her face.

"Mon...Erik, I am so sorry. I did not mean to eavesdrop. I really did not." She said softly, staring at the floor.

Erik sat down in a red velvet chair that sat close to his bed and propped his head up on his elbow with a smirk.

"Alright, then what were you doing outside of my door at this time of night?" He asked no menace behind his cool tone.

Christine's heart sank. He had pinned her into a corner. She fumbled with the ends of the blanket as she sought her explanation.

"Well, the music woke me and I was curious to see where it was coming from and what it was." She said, her feet becoming suddenly interesting. She felt incredibly young all of the sudden. Here she was a stupid little chorus girl, babbling on to one of Paris' most famous musicians about her foolish curiosity. She was shocked to hear him laugh. She looked up to see Erik in the midst of a good chuckle. She felt even more stupid, and blushed anew. Erik smiled brilliantly at her, and shook his head.

"Sweet child, are you frightened of me?" He asked his voice full of amusement.

Christine gulped, but did not answer. In a way, she was terrified of him, yet she had no idea why. There was no way she was going to voice that fear though.

His beautiful smile faded to an understanding smirk. "I know how you feel Christine. But I assure you, you have no reason to be scared of me. I will admit that I was indeed a little startled when I discovered you huddled next to my door but I have no intentions of swooping down on you and scolding you like you seem as though you are expecting me to." He said softly.

Christine shuddered slightly at the sound of his voice. Her name slid off of his tongue like silk and warmed her to an extent that she did not understand. She still felt rotten for being such a snoop though.

"Again, I apologize. I hope that you are not angry with me for invading your privacy." She answered, finally looking up at him.

His gentle smile made her heart race, and she stared into his beautiful amber eyes. He really was quite handsome. His hair looked soft in the candlelight and lay in waves across his forehead. His jet black hair made her fingers ache to entwine themselves in the silky strands. He wore black pants and a loosely fitting black shirt that hung open around his chest. She could not help but stare at the smooth line of chest that peeked out from behind the folds of the shirt. She wound her hands in the blanket and tore her eyes away from him. It would never do to be caught staring at a time like this.

"Apology accepted my dear. I hope that in the future you will alert me of your presence though. That way you don't nearly tumble into my bedroom when I find you." He said with a nod. He then held out his arm, gesturing for her to have a seat next to him.

Christine willed her limbs to work and she sat down in the chair beside him. She waited impatiently for anything to break their uncomfortable silence.

As if on cue, he turned his attentions to her once more.

"Do you like the works of Charlotte Church, my dear?" He asked his voice soft. Christine turned to him with a nod.

"Yes, I am very fond of her music. I am afraid she has turned away from her operatic roots though. I especially like the song that you were listening to just a few moments ago." Christine admitted, the knot in her stomach beginning to loosen.

Erik smiled at her, this time a genuine smile. "Carrickfergus is one of my favorite pieces that Mademoiselle Church has performed. I am pleased to hear that it is one of your favorites too." He replied.

Christine was dying to ask Erik about his ability to perform opera, but she knew that it was probably a bad idea. She remained silent.

"Christine, what vocal harmony do you sing?" He asked suddenly. Christine turned back to him. His eyes were burning into hers. She felt herself melting from the inside out.

"How did you know that I could sing?" She asked.

"Generally, most chorus girls can sing my dear. Especially if you wish to be part of an opera." He answered, raising an eyebrow at her.

She had forgotten that she had told him that earlier that evening. She felt foolish again. How was it that this man could reduce her to a babbling mess?

"I am a high soprano." She finally answered. Erik nodded his approval apparent. He turned back to the stereo on the wall beside him and pressed a button on the receiver. The music began again. He smiled gently to her.

"Would you indulge in a request of your employer?" He asked. Christine swallowed, and nodded.

"Sing for me." He said softly. The knot in her stomach returned, and it was far worse this time. She was incredibly shy about her voice, especially around this man with such a magnificent instrument in his own throat.

"It's not all that wonderful, I can assure you." She answered, as the music floated sweetly around them.

He frowned at her and reached over, patting her hand.

"Allow me to be the judge of that." He responded, leaning back again in his chair to listen.

Christine sighed, and knew that she must sing for him. She couldn't keep herself from doing it, for he would hear her eventually whether she liked it or not. She exhaled to calm her nerves and closed her eyes, waiting for the next verse to begin.

_I wish I had,  
a handsome boatman.  
To ferry me over,  
my love and I._

I wish I was,  
in the land of Eire.  
Where the mountains,  
Reach the sea.

Where flowers blossom,  
as I do remember.  
Where my true love,  
Came to me.

But the sea is wide,  
and I cannot swim over.  
Nor have I,  
The wings to fly.

Christine opened her eyes and looked over at Erik. His own eyes were closed tightly, and he appeared to be quite lost in her song. She smiled to herself and resumed her singing, growing more confident with her voice.

_Ah, to be back now,  
In Carrickfergus.  
To be together,  
my love and I._  
_I wish I was,  
in Carrickfergus.  
To be together,  
my love and I!_

To be together,  
my love... and I!  
...Ooooooooh...

I wish I was back home again.....

The song faded and Christine remained silent once more. The disc had no more tracks on it, so the room remained quiet as well. Erik's eyes were still closed, his hands folded in his lap. She looked down at the floor again, wondering what must be going on inside his complex mind.

He finally turned to her, his entire face lit up, despite his masked features. He gently laid his hand on top of her smaller one and gave it a light squeeze.

"You will not be a simple chorus girl when you leave Europe, Christine. You will be the lead soprano...I will make sure of that." He said softly.

Christine blushed and nodded to him, finding no response to his kind words. Erik stood and held out his hand to her. She looked up at him and took it. He felt warm, and safe.

Erik's fingers curled around her small hand and pulled her from the chair, dangerously close to him. He looked at her, a fire in his earlier dormant stare. She felt her heart skip in her chest.

"Christine, it is still early. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I would not like to see you exhausted. I will escort you back to your bed." He said softly. He broke the intense eye contact and led her from his room. The hallway was still black but the night was beginning to fade into a much lighter shade.

When he reached her small bunk, he released her hand. He nodded to her and took his leave. He paused in his doorway, and turned back to her.

"I shall wake you in the morning my dear. Have a pleasant rest." He said with a smile and closed his door.

Christine stood there for a few moments, still breathless from her encounter with the Phantom. She was even more bewildered then before...but even more intrigued. And even...a little attracted.

- - - -

Later that morning, Christine was tying her shoes when someone tapped on her bed frame. She straightened up at the sound. She had expected to see Erik standing there, but instead came face to face with Antoinette Giry.

"Good morning Christine. Good to see you already up and about. I pray that you slept well." She said with a smile, hinting at her refreshment of a good night's sleep.

Christine nodded and followed the older woman out into the living area of the Phantom's exquisite domain. The bus had stopped over an hour ago in Bourgogne at one of the entire countries largest outdoor venues. Traveling by night had certainly given the crew the upper hand on the set-up. It was 9 in the morning, 10 hours before the Phantom was scheduled to perform. As the pair walked towards the exit of the bus, Antoinette held a thin finger up to her lips. Christine looked around and smiled back at Antoinette. The driver was snoring on Erik's elaborate couch.

The two women crept past the obviously exhausted man and stepped out into the warm morning. 'Summer in France. Nothing better.' Christine thought. She slipped her hand over her eyes to protect them from the brilliant sun. Antoinette took the younger woman's arm as they walked towards the rear of the enormous structure.

"The Phantom wished for me to tell you that he is sorry he will not be able to meet with you this morning. He apologized, for he has many public appearances to attend before his sound check this evening." She said, opening the door for Christine.

When they stepped inside the backstage area, Christine silently breathed a prayer of thanks for the gift of electric fans.

"Thank you for the message." She finally replied. She had to admit to herself that she was indeed a little disappointed. Antoinette sat down in an oversized chair next to a fine oak table with many papers spread across it. Christine sat on the floor across from her.

"What is all that?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at Antoinette's flustered rummaging.

Antoinette sighed. "These are wavers, forms, and various other legal papers I must sign before the concert tonight. When the Phantom performs an outdoor concert, we tend to get a bit extensive with the pyrotechnics." She said, beginning to sort the different papers into stacks.

Christine shook her head. "I could never keep up with all of that. It would be too difficult." She said. Antoinette smiled up from a paper that she had begun to skim over.

"That is why I do it. The Phantom could not keep from having his mind dwindle to other things. He would forget in his haste to have his performance perfect." She said with a laugh. Christine nodded in accord. He seemed to be quite the perfectionist.

"Is there anything that I may help you with?" She asked. She felt guilty for being such a tag along when Antoinette had so much to do.

Antoinette looked off thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Have you sent your observations on last night's performance to your record company yet?" She asked. Christine nodded. That was one of her few duties as an intern. She was required to give the record label details on every aspect of the tour. She had the most difficult time going back to sleep after her encounter with Erik and she had set to work completing the task on her laptop.

"Well then. If you have finished that, then you may go sit in on the band's rehearsal if you so desire. They started a few moments ago, and that will give you some insight on the band if some knowledge is required of you for your internship." She said with a smile. She then pointed in the direction of the front of the stage.

Christine nodded and got up from her spot. Leaving Antoinette alone to settle Erik's affairs for the night, she went to find a seat in the vast arena to listen to the band warm up.

- - - -

Antoinette was in the middle of a telephone conversation with the resident sound coordinator of the arena when she heard a commotion break out on the stage. She immediately apologized and asked to call the man back in a few minutes, running to see what was the matter.

Christine was looking up wide eyed at a woman in her early thirties who was screaming obscenities at her. The other members of Erik's band simply rolled their eyes, ignoring the outburst.

Antoinette stormed onto the stage with a cry of "ENOUGH."

The angry woman on stage stopped her incessant complaining and shot Antoinette a look that would melt wax. Unscathed by the look, Antoinette stomped out to where the woman stood.

"What is going on out here? I am trying to conduct business back here and I am hearing you behaving like a child. I want an answer and I want it now." Antoinette scolded, staring at the woman in question.

The flustered lady pointed at Christine angrily, not restraining her anger in the slightest.

"This little worm is giving me orders on how to sing MY accompaniment. I will not tolerate such disrespect! I have performed two tours with the Phantom and I will not be told how to sing my songs." She bellowed, her Italian accent spilling out of her lips.

Christine was staring at the floor, her face pure white with fear. Antoinette shook her head.

"Christine, what is she talking about? Did you say something to her?" She asked.

Christine looked up and swallowed, visibly uncomfortable.

"I meant no disrespect. She was repeatedly missing the high notes that she was singing. I simply said that if she controlled her breathing and opened her mouth a little wider that it would help her to get those notes without straining so much. That's all." She said softly.

The Italian woman scoffed at her.

"You see! She knows nothing. She has been with this band for one whole day and she is already telling me how to sing! I will not be insulted by this child." The woman screeched, shaking her fist at Christine.

"You are being unreasonable. She is a musician herself, that is why she is here. She only meant to give you constructive criticism. She meant no harm." Antoinette stated, trying to cool the woman off.

"I will not be talked down to by this…this…this…little bitch. She sings opera she says! I highly doubt that. She has no room to criticize me! I would like to see her come up here and give the Phantom his accompaniment. I bet she cannot even sing a note!" She shrieked. She sneered at Christine and then looked back at Antoinette in disgust.

"If she stays within my presence a moment longer, I will refuse to sing tonight." She said with a triumphant smile.

The guitarist looked at Christine with a sad smile of compassion. Christine looked as though she could cry. Antoinette did not flinch as she returned the woman's glare.

"Alright then. We shall settle this problem immediately." Antoinette began.

"Christine, you must come back stage with me." She began. The Italian woman gave a "hmph" of triumph. Antoinette then glared at her.

"Don't think that you have gotten over on me Senora. You are fired." She said with a smile, turning from the enraged diva.

"You cannot fire me! I am Carlotta! You'll be sorry tonight. You need me. The Phantom's ballads will not be the same!" The singer raged.

Antoinette turned to the instrumentalists. "Get her off this stage at once. I want her out of my sight and I want her things off of the bus. She is taking up valuable space." She declared, motioning for Christine to follow her.

"Antoinette, I'm so sorry! I did not mean to cause any harm!" Christine cried when they were out of earshot. She stared at her feet, ashamed.

Antoinette turned to her, stone faced. She could not help her hard set mouth from cracking into a smile and she broke out in laughter. Christine looked up, confused.

"Christine! Do not apologize! I am actually quite humored with the situation! You were the first person who has ever dared to tell Carlotta that she was off key. It was priceless." She said, chuckling.

Christine sighed, relieved. "Well...she was terrible." She said softly. Antoinette nodded.

"Oh believe me. We know. But there has been no time to train someone else, for we have been on the road too much." She said, sitting back down into her chair.

At that moment, two men came storming backstage, frustrated looks on their faces.

"What in the hell have you done Antoinette?" The tallest man yelled.

Antoinette massaged her temples, frustrated. "Monsieur Firmin, I am sorry. I could not deal with that obnoxious woman a moment longer." She breathed.

"Do you not understand? There are songs that will never be the same without Carlotta's soprano! She is the perfect match to the Phantom's voice! It won't be the same. That man will be furious. What are we going to tell the label? They will be outraged! These songs haven't even been recorded yet!" The shorter man complained.

"You're the producers. You call the shots. I'm sure you can think of something." Antoinette breathed, shuffling through her papers once more.

Firmin turned to Andre, ignoring her. "I am not going to tell him Andre, you are." He exclaimed.

"And he is going to be livid with you Antoinette. His voice needs her support for many many songs. And now...you have FIRED her?" Andre cried.

"And now he will be without accompaniment, for it appears, we have lost our back up singer." Firimin sighed.

Antoinette looked up at him, eyebrow cocked.

"Do you honestly think that the Phantom needed that horrible woman? He's perfectly fine without her. She added color to the songs, granted, but he does NOT need her at all. In fact, he'll probably thank me for firing her!" Antoinette declared.

"We know that Antoinette, but the Phantom's new debuts tonight are duets. He cannot perform them without Carlotta." Firmin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

Christine stared at the floor. They were right. A duet cannot be performed alone. Erik was going to be furious.

Antoinette's eyes darted to Christine and then back to Andre and Firmin.

"Christine Davenport could sing it." She declared.


	5. It Isn't The Love of A Hero

AN: Yay! Thanks so much for your awesome comments! I'm trying to update this story at least once a week now. You all had to wait on me for so long that I don't want to keep you waiting this time around. =) Let me know what you think!

**Chapter 5: It Isn't The Love of a Hero**

Christine's head snapped up and she stared at Antoinette in shock, hardly believing her ears. Andre and Firmin's faces held the same reaction. 'Me? Sing back up for Erik? What is she thinking? I could never!' Her mind raced. She was an opera singer! She had no clue of what style to use her voice in! Andre and Firmin looked at Antoinette as if the woman had lost her mind.

"The American intern? Don't be ridiculous." Andre answered and then nodded to Christine.

"A pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle Davenport. I do apologize for this unfortunate event. Do not regard what we say in the least. It is not a blow to your talent, I only mean to say that your talent is not of service in this situation." He quickly added. Christine opened her mouth to speak, but was immediately silenced by a wave of Antoinette's hand.

"Please Messieurs. She has been well taught. She attended the University of New York on a complete music scholarship. That alone must count for something. Let her sing for you. I am sure that you will be surprised." Antoinette said firmly. Firmin rolled his eyes.

"With all due respect to Mlle. Davenport, I do not believe that will be the case. Although she is musically inclined, I have no questions about that, I regret to inform you that we do happen to know that this music scholarship you speak of was a theatrical drama grant. This is not the Paris Opera, Madame Giry. This is rock and roll. This is electric guitar and drums and not the cello or viola! I should hope you would know that your idea is insane!"

Antoinette wrinkled her brow at his snide remarks.

"Regardless Monsieur Firmin, Christine is talented. Allow me time to prepare her with a song from the Phantom's repertoire and she will prove to you that she is what we are looking for in this production. And as you already know, Monsieur, Antoinette shall do just fine." She answered sharply.

Christine looked on with an awkward smile as Antoinette defended her talents; talents that Antoinette had never even heard her use. She almost did not know whether or not to laugh or to cry. Andre sighed and looked down at his watch.

"Very well. You have one hour to allow Mlle. Davenport to prepare her selection." He turned and looked at Christine. "I shall see you on stage at 11:30." He said, and placed his fedora upon his head. Firmin followed suit.

"And if we are not impressed Antoinette," Firmin began, "it shall be you who will call the Phantom to inform him of this most unfortunate incident." He snapped and stormed away. Andre bowed his head to the two women and followed suit. Antoinette eyed the pair with contempt.

"Foolish men." She hissed. Christine swallowed.

"Antoinette, I am not sure that I can do what it is you are asking of me. I have efficient tonal memory, but I have only heard the Phantom perform once. I can not remember any of his selections. Nor have I any experience with this sort of music." Christine said sadly. Antoinette looked up at the girl with a knowing smile.

"If you have good tonal memory Christine, then we just might be able to pull this off." She said, hope in her voice. She took Christine by the hand and led her back out to the bus area. Christine reluctantly followed. What on earth had she gotten herself into this time? She made a mental note to remember not to stick her foot in her mouth.

***************************************  
Christine sat listening to a recording of the Phantom and Carlotta during a rehearsal. She leaned back into her seat on Antoinette's bus and concentrated on Carlotta's soprano in the background. She cringed when she heard the Italian woman's voice butchering the high notes. Christine looked across the room at Antoinette.

"If she is so horrible Antoinette then why didn't the Phantom fire her himself? She sounds positively wretched." Christine asked. Antoinette could not help but laugh.

"Lord knows he has wanted to Christine. He has been on the road for so long that he has not been able to find anyone sufficient to replace her. We cannot settle down long enough to hold an audition." She replied. Christine nodded, and then remained silent.

The lyrics were haunting, the music strangely beautiful...in a raw sort of way. Christine thought back to the night before, remembering Erik's voice as he sang through the first verse of Carrikfergus. He had sounded so achingly beautiful. On this recording, he sounded just as talented...but not nearly as passionate. She could not help but wonder why he would hide such a beautiful gift...or...such a beautiful face.

Christine closed her eyes and concentrated on the music. She knew that she must memorize this composition, or it would be Antoinette's undoing. She could not let that happen. Not after the way she had defended her talents to Messieurs Andre and Firmin. No, she would not allow them to make a fool out of her.

She unknowingly hummed along with the track, and each time it replayed, she grew a little more confident. Within 30 minutes, she was out singing Carlotta on the track. She mimicked the style of the Italian's voice but with much clearer and purer tone. 'I hope this is what I should sound like.' She thought to herself.

Antoinette listened to Christine's efforts with interest. Her voice was a million times more pure than Carlotta's had ever thought to be. 'Just the way Erik had said he would like the duet to be.' She thought. She looked up just in time to see Meg slide down on the couch beside her. She was grinning from ear to ear.

"Maman, she is wonderful. Do you think that perhaps she could someday replace that wretched woman?" Meg asked, her voice hushed so not to disturb Christine's practicing. Antoinette smiled.

"She will more than likely replace her tonight." Antoinette said. Meg's eyes widened. Antoinette patted her hand.

"I'll tell you later on tonight my dear. It is quite the comical story." She looked down at her watch. 11:20. She glanced back up at Christine.

"Christine, it is time for you to go and meet with the producers." She said softly. Christine nodded, and turned off the CD player next to her. She stood up and followed Antoinette to the door. Meg stopped her on her way out.

"May I come and watch Christine? I have no clue what is happening here but I do want to be a part of it!" She said quickly. Christine smiled, glad to have more support and nodded. Meg quickly slipped on her shoes and followed the pair back into the arena.

******************************  
Christine found herself standing in front of the lead microphone, the Phantom's microphone and staring out into an empty stadium. The only seats that were filled were the first four directly in front of her. Antoinette, Meg, and Messieurs Andre and Firmin sat looking up at her.

The band was setting up behind her and tuning their instruments. The news had gotten around to the entire crew that Carlotta had been fired, so the entire backstage was filled with bodyguards, road crew, light technicians, and anyone else under the sun that was affiliated with the tour.

Christine was unspeakably nervous, knowing that she couldn't let Antoinette down. She nervously picked at her fingernails as she waited for the band to finish tuning that instruments.

"Christine, are you ready my dear?" Antoinette asked a few minutes later. Christine nodded. 'As ready as I'll ever be.' She thought to herself. She said a quick prayer that she wouldn't make an absolute fool of herself.

She heard the microphone switch on and static filled the speakers. She could tell someone was working diligently in the sound box to play the track so that Christine was singing over Erik's voice. After a few moments, the Phantom's voice filled the arena and shivers ran up and down Christine's spine. To hear Erik's voice booming all around her was surreal.

After a few lines of Erik's tempting voice, it was time for Christine to come in. She'd have to sing over Carlotta's screeching but knew that her voice being amplified through the speakers would help tremendously. She hoped to do the Phantom and Antoinette justice.

She leaned into the microphone took a deep breath and allowed the words to spill from her lips.

_Someone told me love would all save us_

_But how can that be?_

_Look what love gave us_

_A world full of killing and blood spilling_

_That won't ever change_

Christine felt a warmth wrap around her as her notes became entwined with Erik's beautiful voice. They trapped one another, and she felt a sense of release that she hadn't felt in ages. She felt secure with his voice tangled in her, almost as if it were his arms cradling her and not his vocals.

_And they say that a hero can save us_

_I'm not gonna stand here and wait_

_I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles_

_Watch as they all fly away_

Christine knew that that much of the song would convince Andre and Firmin to either allow her to sing tonight, or to write her off as the silly little intern they had thought her to be. The music faded and Christine backed away from the microphone, trying her best to hide her erratic breathing. The silence around her brought her painfully back to realization that everyone had been watching her. She placed her hands behind her back and looked down at the stage. She was staring down at her feet when she heard one of the chairs in the audience squeak. She looked up to see Firmin begin to clap, a smile upon his face. Andre jumped up and followed suit. Soon the rest of the onlookers were clapping and cheering for Christine's efforts. A blush broke out across her face, but she knew she had done well. Antoinette was smiling proudly and Meg was cheering for her. Christine sighed in relief and gave a small bow. Firmin approached the front of the stage.

"Mademoiselle Christine, I deeply apologize for the lack of faith that my partner and I offered you earlier. I am very impressed with your skills and would be deeply honored if you would perform with the Phantom tonight." He said, looking up at the girl. Christine smiled and nodded in agreement. Firmin backed away and said something to Antoinette before leaving the arena with Andre. Meg raced up to Christine.

"You were wonderful up there Christine! The Phantom will be thrilled." Meg said enthusiastically. Christine smiled. The pair clamored down the stairs to the waiting Antoinette. She stepped forward and embraced Christine.

"Thank you for saving my behind. I do not know or want to imagine what I would have done without you." She said bluntly. Christine laughed out loud and nodded.

"Thank your for defending my honor." She replied. Antoinette nodded and started walking away, barking orders at various members of the crew still standing around, and gesturing for Meg and Christine to follow her. They followed after her frantic form.

"Let me see. You learned that song in a 45 minute time frame, good. Now you need to do the same with about...fifteen more songs. Do you think you can do that?" Antoinette asked, walking briskly back to her and her daughter's bus. Christine looked horrified.

"Fifteen?! I'm not sure if my brain can withstand all that at once. But I'll certainly try Antoinette." Christine breathed as they climbed the stairs to the bus. Christine placed a hand over her chest in an effort to lessen the speed of her racing heart and walked over to the couch. Meg opened a binder full of CDs and lyrics and popped one into the CD player, handing the lyrics to Christine. Antoinette paused to take a breath.

"I hope we aren't upsetting you Christine. I know that this is extremely challenging but I have faith in you. I will ready everything and have dinner sent to you so do not worry. Just memorize your vocals and I'll take care of the rest." Antoinette said, putting a hand on Christine's shoulder to reassure her. She turned to leave as Meg pressed the play button, and ""Always" filled the room. Antoinette turned back.

"Meg dear?" She said. Meg looked up.

"Yes Maman?" She answered. Antoinette looked back at Christine and smirked.

"Find Christine something to wear tonight. You know the style. Make her blend in, but make her stand out to the crowd." She said to her daughter.

Meg gave her the thumbs up and went racing to the back to search for a stage ensemble for Christine. The girl in question placed her head in her hands. She had to learn fifteen more songs and be dressed to kill? She just wished she could crawl into her suitcase and hide.

**

* * *

**At 6:30 that evening, Christine found herself staring at her reflection in a full length mirror wearing something that forced her mind to scream, "You look like trash."

She was dressed in a black lace and satin top that bared her stomach to the world. Christine had never been one for suggestive clothing, so this new ensemble was somewhat unnerving to the girl. The satin and lace article was strapless and Meg had doused her in a fine glitter to make her pale shoulders glow in the spotlights. A pair of skin tight leather pants completed Christine's new look, bound at the sides with silk lacings and bared the sides of her toned dancer's legs.

Meg stood behind her putting the finishing touches on the outfit that she had created for Christine's stage debut. Christine's unruly curls were allowed to fly free, giving her dark look even more appeal. Black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow completed the stage persona. She looked fit to back up the Phantom alright.

That factor alone was the only thing that made Christine feel better about the way that she was dressed. She looked the part, so no one would frown upon her for it. Christine sighed heavily and turned around in front of the mirror, giving herself a questioning once over,

"Meg, where in the world did you find clothing like this?" Christine asked. Meg stifled a laugh.

"Actually, they are some clothes that I bought in America to go out in. But please don't tell Maman that they are mine. I would like to let her assume that I went out and bought them for you today." Meg laughed. Christine looked at her helplessly. Meg crossed her arms over her chest.

"Christine, does this outfit really make you feel that uncomfortable?" She asked. Christine bowed her head, embarrassed. Meg frowned.

"Well don't be. People would look at you funny if you weren't dressed like that out there. That costume is relatively tame, actually. And even though you'd never believe me when I say...you look incredible." Meg said. Christine blushed.

"Do I really? It's hard to imagine myself looking remotely attractive in this getup." She laughed. Meg shrugged.

"You look great." She said with a laugh. There came at knock at the door. Meg looked up in that direction.

"Maman, is that you?" She called. In response, the door opened and Antoinette walked in. She stopped in her tracks and raised an eyebrow at Christine.

"You look amazing Christine. The crowd will certainly love you more than they did Carlotta." Antoinette said approaching Christine. She urged her to turn around so she could see the whole outfit. Antoinette looked up.

"Meg, you did a good job finding this outfit for Christine. Thank you my dear." Antoinette said, patting her daughter on the shoulder. Meg nodded and winked at her friend. Antoinette turned back to Christine.

"Are you ready dear? You certainly look ready." Antoinette asked. Christine sighed.

"I've learned my music...so I guess I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be." She said softly.

"Don't worry Christine. You will do fine. The Phantom will be pleasantly surprised." Antoinette reassured. Christine shrugged.

"I don't want to let him down. Did he take the news well?" Christine asked, adjusting the ties on her pants. Antoinette shrugged.

"I haven't told him yet. That's why he will be pleasantly surprised." Antoinette answered. Christine looked up, mouth agape. Before she could ask Antoinette why, the woman's radio on her hip went off and she began barking French into the receiver.

"Christine, it's time. They need you to go to the platform beneath the stage where the band is waiting. The band makes their entrance before the Phantom makes his." Antoinette said, opening the door and urging her to exit. Christine took a deep breath and walked out into the backstage area.

Meg accompanied her to the underground area. As Christine walked, she received more and more looks and eyebrow raises. Christine slowly began to relax in her surroundings. Meg nudged her arm.

"I told you that you looked excellent." She said in a hushed tone. Christine smiled, and tried to focus on the task ahead of her, and not on the stares and cat calls she got from the crew.

"Why does the band have to be underground before the concert begins?" Christine asked as a guard let them through a door marked "Performers Only".

"The underground platform is something that is part of the special effects of the Phantom's show. The band is positioned on the platform, and as they begin to play, the platform rises through the top of the stage. A few moments later, a smaller platform at the front of the stage rises, and they Phantom makes his appearance. It gets a lot of fan reaction. They absolutely love it." Meg answered as they approached the platform.

The lead guitarist saw Christine and sat down his instrument down.

"Miss Davenport? My name is Patrick. I just wanted to tell you how much you impressed us today. It takes a lot to put Carlotta Judicelli in her place." He said. He offered his hand to Christine to pull her onto the raised platform. Christine took it and turned around to talk to Meg. She was already gone.

"She had to leave Miss Davenport. The stage rises in 5 minutes." Patrick said to her, donning his guitar once more. Christine smiled at him. "It's nice to meet you Patrick. Please, call me Christine." She offered.

Christine looked around at the people she would be performing with. Dressed like they were, she felt a sense of comfort that she had not expected and breathed a sigh of relief. The sleeveless shirted drummer smiled her and inclined his head toward the microphone at the front of their platform.

Christine nodded to him in response and centered herself in front of the microphone. She bowed her head and said a silent prayer that everything would turn out well. She opened her eyes and stared out into the darkened area. Machinery thundered along in front of her, and men stood next to the levers that would raise them to the stage.

A red light flashed above her and she heard the distant screams of the audience flooding her ears.

"Put on your best smile Christine. This is what it's all about." Patrick called to her. Christine nodded and a smile crept onto her lips.

This was what she was made for, regardless of what genre. She was a performer and she longed for the stage. The crew members gave the cue and the levers were pushed up. The tapping of drum sticks signalled the start of their introduction and the band began to blare behind her. The stage opened and the platform began to rise. Christine's smile grew larger as her head rose from the ground and she saw the millions of fans packed into the dark arena. Their screams were an adrenaline rush for Christine, and the unease in her timid form left her body.

'So this is what it feels like.' She told herself. The band wailing behind her, Christine found herself clapping her hands over her head to the beat. To her enjoyment, the crowd began to scream and clap along with her. Seconds later, she saw the floor in front of her open.

Smoke and fog billowed from the opening and the screams of the fans grew intense. Slowly, the Phantom rose from the floor. Christine felt her breath catch in her chest.

Erik's head was bowed and his fists were clinched, the neck of his guitar gripped in his left hand, his right dangling before the strings. He wore a black muscle shirt and dark jeans that hugged his muscular form. His hair was gelled up, and the lights made his ebony strands look blue. His striking white mask was the only thing that drew attention away from his muscular build.

The lead guitar blared a single chord and the Phantom's head snapped up. His normally stoic features, curled into a crowd pleasing smirk. Christine watched in awe as the audience jumped to their feet, arms thrust up at their star. He hadn't even noticed that Carlotta had been replaced. Christine glanced over her shoulder at her fellow band mates.

The drummer held his sticks up to the sky and smacked them together signaling the band to burst out into their first song. Patrick's fingers flew across the strings and Christine wrapped one hand around the microphone stand, preparing to sing.

Erik rushed the front of the stage to his microphone as Christine opened her mouth to back his exotic voice up with her own.

_Not like I need to depend upon anyone  
Not like I see the lack of need  
For me to be here at all  
One more anthem for the know-it-all  
I won't be standing up for long  
I better learn how to crawl  
In ten minutes  
I'll be laying out flat on the floor.  
_

Erik belted his heart into the microphone and Christine threw her soprano in behind him in a rough crescendo. She was amazed at how perfectly their voices blended together and sang with as much feeling as she would one of her operas. The second verse started as powerfully as the first and Christine marveled at Erik's skill on the guitar. His fingers flew across the strings, his eyes closed tightly as he sang. A guitar break began in the song and the Phantom allowed his guitar to slip over his shoulder to hang across his back as he took the microphone from the stand. He allowed his body to slither across the stage, his slow, cat like movements making him appear even more sensual. Christine watched him, lips parted as he sank to a knee on the ground, singing the bridge without an accompaniment.

_Eight minutes, I'm losing it a little bit  
Five minutes and your description  
Might be starting to fit  
Three to go and I'm forgetting all that I've ever known  
I won't be standing up for long  
I better learn how to crawl...  
_

Erik's voice sounded like silk as it slithered into Christine's mind, drowning her of all other thoughts besides the Phantom. She remembered herself and threw her voice into the music, underneath his beautiful voice as he went back into the final chorus.

_  
I can't stand up at all  
Can't see nothing at all  
In ten minutes _

_I'll be laying out flat on the floor._

The music faded away, leaving Christine breathless and the crowd of people screaming for more. The adrenaline pumping through her body was intense and she, like the fans, was yearning to join her voice with Erik's once more.

* * *

The concert continued on, Erik giving an even better performance than the previous nights' if that were humanly possible. The show was reaching its end and Erik still had not realized that she was on stage right behind him.

Instead of coming to the finale with his normal discography, he had chosen to debut one of his newest songs that night. The music slowly began again, one of Erik's new pieces. The duet Christine had performed for Andre and Firmin. Christine took a deep breath. This was the only song that her voice would be exposed on tonight so she must do her best.

The Phantom was sitting in a black folding chair on the right wing of the stage, staring out into the crowd. He'd never thought to give his back up singer a glance. He turned his head to the side, allowing the audience to see his unmasked cheek. He brought the microphone up to his lips.

I _am so high; I can hear heaven  
I am so high, I can hear heaven  
No but heaven, no heaven don't hear me._

Christine stepped down from the platform, microphone encased in her small hand as she walked to the center of the stage as she joined him in the chorus of his new song. She smiled as cigarette lighters lit up all around in the audience.

_  
And they say that a hero can save us  
I'm not gonna stand here and wait  
I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles  
Watch as they all fly away_

Christine watched the Phantom's face as he performed. He looked so passionate, so moved. Here was her moment of truth. It was time to put up or shut up. Christine looked out into the vast arena and closed her eyes. She opened her mouth and revealed herself.

_Someone told me_

_Love would all save us  
But how can that be_

_Look what love gave us  
A world full of killing and blood spilling  
That won't ever change_

The fans screamed in approval at Christine's beautiful voice. Her heart soared to her their acceptance of her. She turned her head to the Phantom, nervous as to his reaction.

He was on his feet, staring wide-eyed at her. He began to slowly stalk to her spot on the stage as though he had choreographed it all along. He continued to sing the chorus as he came upon her scantily clad form. He reached her and stood close, facing her and looking down into her face as they reached the bridge. Their voices came together in two part harmony and Christine shivered inwardly as his silky voice wrapped around her own.

_Now that the world isn't ending_

_It's love that I'm sending to you_

_It isn't the love of a hero_

_And that's why I fear it won't do_

Their voices rose in a crescendo to the final chorus and Christine felt slightly unnerved when he did not break her gaze. They brought the song to a close with a final harmonized, "_woah"._

Te audience screamed as the Phantom came forward and wrapped his strong hand around Christine's delicate fingers and brought her hand skyward.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce to you Christine Davenport." He announced, voice achingly even. He released her hand and took a bow, gesturing for her to follow suit. She took a small bow and the audience applauded her with enthusiasm.

The band started up once more and Erik bid his fans goodnight, stepping behind the curtain. Christine followed and handed her microphone to a sound tech, also removing her ear piece and wireless pick up from the back of her pants.

Erik had already disappeared. Antoinette and Meg rushed to Christine's side, broad smiles across their faces.

"Christine! You were wonderful!" Meg beamed, taking her into her arms. Christine smiled tiredly. Antoinette handed her a bottle of water and gave her her warmest smile.

"You did very well my dear. He is pleased with you." She said warmly. Christine felt relieved to hear that the Phantom was pleased with her performance, though how Antoinette had gathered that conclusion she did not know. Antoinette squeezed her arm and then called out into the hallway. Two men dressed in black appeared, arms folded over their broad chests. Christine looked at Antoinette questioningly as they planted themselves at her sides.

"Last night you were perfectly safe being inconspicuous, but tonight that crowd of fans recognizes you as being a member of the Phantom's band. These were Carlotta's bodyguards. They now belong to you. When you are with this entourage, take care to keep them with you." She said. Christine nodded. Antoinette hurried away to make sure that the Phantom was safely escorted out.

"Mademoiselle, as soon as we receive word from the boss, we are to escort you to your bus." The bodyguard on her right said. Christine smiled at him.

"Please call me Christine. And you are?" Christine asked.

"I am Jean, and this is Cedric." The man replied. Christine smiled and nodded in response and took a sip of her water. Her throat instantly thanked her. Jean's radio went off a moment later and they each took Christine gently by an arm.

"Come this way Christine. And don't worry, you're safe with us." Cedric said.

* * *

Songs used in this chapter are "Flat on the Floor" by Nickelback, and "Hero" by Chad Kroeger and Josey Scott


	6. Dancing With Danger

A/N: Hey hey I'm back! Sorry it took a little while. The end of 2008 was crazy! I got engaged too. =) Yay!

Anyway, let's get back to Erik and Christine. Shall we?

**Chapter 6 – Dancing With Danger**

The roar of the fans was almost unbearable this time around for Christine. It was overwhelming that so many people could be so appreciative of the Phantom's, and now her own, music. She was not ungrateful, but far from used to this sort of display. She was certainly thankful to be in the safe keeping of her on loan bodyguards at the moment. She grew tense as they neared the doors, wondering what it would be like once they got outside the safety of the building. She didn't have too much to worry about. The second they opened the stage door, the Jean and Cedric latched onto her, each with an arm around her waist and the other used to keep the fans back. She felt like a celebrity with this sort of treatment.

Christine was shocked at how quickly this audience had responded to her. They thrust their hands out at her as well, and while she was frightened at all the attention she was attracting, she still managed to smile at them. Some screamed her name, others simple yelled and squealed when they saw her...others were pleading for her autograph. Christine was overwhelmed, and uttered a prayer of thanks when the trio reached the waiting bus. Jean never turned his back on the sea of fans as he reached up and banged sharply on the doors to Christine's bus. The driver swiftly opened the door for her to enter.

Jean helped Christine up onto the bus and nodded to her. Then the pair turned around and barred the doors, hands crossed over their chests. No one would be able to get to Christine or the Phantom. Christine raised an eyebrow as she looked at them through the window.

"Are you wondering why they are doing that?" Charles asked, lighting his cigarette and resting his elbow on the steering wheel. He reached over and cracked the window next to him to let the smoke rise up and out of it.

Christine climbed up the stairs and smiled at the driver.

"Sure...are the fans really that unruly?" Christine asked, sitting down behind the driver. She was suddenly aware of how cold she was. The revealing outfit that she had made her stage debut in certainly didn't provide much insulation. But for some odd reason...she liked this costume. It was against everything she had been taught that was proper...but she felt...mature and even a little sexy in it. But that honestly didn't matter if she froze to death in the air conditioned bus. She huddled up against the seat and waited for his answer. She noticed another loud smack on the door as Jean waved them on.

Charles laughed a little to himself as he put the enormous vehicle in gear and pulled away from the sidewalk.

"Well, a few weeks back, a few crazy girls decided they'd pay the Phantom a visit...and they stowed away in his bedroom. Boy was he mad." Charles chuckled. Christine laughed a little to herself. She could only imagine the way he would have reacted to such a spectacle.

"What did he do to them once he realized what they had done?" Christine asked, curious. The response came from behind her.

"I believe in America you would describe my reaction as freaking out."

Christine froze in mid thought and turned her head. Erik was standing in the door way, leaning against the door frame of the hallway, face perfectly unreadable. She gulped and looked down at the floor. Charles said nothing and went back to watching the road ahead of him. He did manage to get another short laugh out.

Her heart thundered in her chest. Suddenly all her confidence and quick wit were gone. She was a scared little girl again, precisely the type of girl she did not want to be around Erik. She felt painfully aware of her revealing clothing but tried not to be immature and cover herself, though all she wanted do was grab the pillow beside her and hold it close to her chest. She thought she may have heard him move, but she did not dare look up to see if he was still standing there. He answered her unasked question.

"Come with me Christine." He said, his voice dark. She heard him turn and walk slowly down the hallway. Christine looked up at where he had been standing. She cursed herself for feeling so small and weak around him but fought her way to stand up and follow along behind him. The door to his room was ajar, and she knew that he had gone inside. She sighed deeply and entered.

Erik was lounging in the same red chair she had seen him in before, staring out the window at the passing night. His amber eyes were focused and his expression set. He held a glass of wine in one hand and rested his chin on the other. Christine stood in the doorway, in awe of the man before her.

She couldn't lie to herself. Erik was achingly beautiful.

Every sweep of his hand, and every tiny expression that his elegant face made was full of so much poise and perfection...it was literally intoxicating. As she surveyed Erik from a far she could not help but take in the masculinity that he possessed. His body appeared firm, his limbs toned and hard from physical exertion. The way his stage clothes melded to that elegant body...it made Christine's knees weak. She snapped out of her revere when she realized that he was watching her stare at him. The corner of his lips rose in a gentle smile.

"Darling, do not stand there in the hallway like a child about to be punished. Come in and sit down beside me." He said silkily, placing his drink down on the table beside him and beckoning her to the seat across from him.

Christine was pulled in by that angelic voice and felt her legs move against her will. As she approached, Erik slid his long legs off of his chair and Christine watched as he put them to the floor. Even his legs, his LEGS of all things made her mad with attraction. Christine cursed herself for being so infatuated with his charm. 'He thinks of you as a child Christine. A child. Nothing more.' She told herself. Somehow, she found herself cowering across from him in the chair. She was thankful that he didn't have a couch in his room or she would have been forced to sit beside him. She stared at her feet again, showing great interest in the spike heeled boots on her dainty feet.

She was taken off guard when a warm hand ghosted across her back and pressed her chest upright. She looked up at Erik, confusion written clearly on her face, as he placed his hand back onto his leg and leaned back in his seat. He took a sip of his wine and let out a breath.

"You will acquire a rather nasty habit of slouching if you keep doing that. It is bad for your voice." He said coolly. Christine's eyes dropped to the floor again.

"I'm sorry." She said softly. She felt Erik shift in his seat, and his large hand suddenly clasped her chin, gently tugging her face up to look ay him. His mysterious eyes stared at her from inside his mask.

"Do not apologize Christine. It was simply a comment of critique. I would not want you to damage your voice due to my lack of concern." He replied. Christine stared at him through doe eyes, feeling as childish as ever. He dropped his hand and she felt life begin to return to her body. He said nothing for a time, but stared blankly across the room. His brow brought together in thought. Christine decided to say something intelligible to try and redeem herself.

"You gave another spectacular show tonight Erik." She offered, fiddling with the strap on her boots. Erik turned his head to her once more, a smile spreading across his lips.

"Thank you my dear. I will say that the show was rather interesting tonight." He toyed, his voice holding a hint of amusement. Christine smiled sheepishly.

"I fear that Carlotta is very angry with me." She said, chuckling to herself.

"That is another matter altogether. I was referring to your presence on stage tonight." Erik said, sipping from his wine glass. Christine played with her fingers, trying to come up with an appropriate response.

"I hope that you are not angry with me for performing tonight without your permission." She said. Erik placed his empty glass back on the table and folded his hands into his lap.

"On the contrary, I was quite impressed with your bold efforts tonight. The crowd certainly loved your voice in place of Carlotta's." He replied. Christine blushed. Erik noted her unease but continued.

"As did I." He said softly. Christine looked up into his eyes. The amber orbs were practically burning through her as though they could read her every thought. She had never seen such eyes. Erik stood up and strode across the room, his back to her. Christine looked up at him in wonder.

"My dear, you thoroughly impressed me tonight. You took on an immense challenge by learning a fifteen song set. That took a lot of work, Christine. Your voice above mine was...refreshing...to say the least." He began. Christine smiled to herself. 'I wonder what would be the most he could say.' Erik turned to look at her, as though he read her mind.

"Will you replace Carlotta permanently? For this tour anyway? I know that is a lot to ask, but I must ask it." He asked. Christine blinked, surprised by his question.

"If...if you would like for me to." She replied, stumbling over her words. Erik nodded his head.

"I would be honored." He said softly.

She smiled, proud that he wanted her to be a part of his entourage. "Then I would be most glad to."

Christine drew her knees up to her chest, an absent minded reaction of the chill in the room, as she pondered his statement. Erik's lips curled into a smile once more and he crossed the floor once more. He knelt in front of Christine and placed a hand on either side of her small body in the chair. She blinked, startled to have him so close.

"Are you cold Christine?" He asked his voice gentle. Christine remembered her outfit and nodded. Erik allowed his eyes to wander over her for a few moments. He stopped himself and straightened to full height once more. He walked over to a small bureau and began sifting through it.

"I will not have you catching cold my dear. But I will have to admit that you look incredible in that outfit of yours. I was literally frozen, if that's safe to say, when I saw you tonight on stage during our duet." He said, lifting his eyebrows as he found what he was looking for. Christine blushed at his comments. Not only at the fact that he found her attractive, but that he spoke about their song as though it belonged to only them.

"Meg gave it to me. She said it would be good for my stage persona." She said softly. Erik closed the drawer and walked back to her a small pile of clothing in his hand. He raised an eyebrow as he sat down next to her again.

"If it isn't too bold of me to say, this so called stage persona that our dear little Meg is trying to create for you caused me to forget the first lines to the chorus we were singing together darling." His elegant voice teased. Christine's cheeks grew even redder.

"I regret to inform you, that once again we shall be traveling by bus again tonight. Also, Antoinette called a short time ago to inform me that all of your belonging are still on the Giry's bus. I am assuming that is where you readied yourself for the evening." Erik stated, trying to ease her embarrassment.

Christine remembered and uttered a soft "dammit" before she could stop herself. A hand flew to her lips. Erik chuckled.

"I fear that this production's influence on you is draining you of your sweetness my dear Christine. But I will not tell." He said with a wink. He stood up again and walked to his private bathroom. He opened the door and warm air caressed Christine's face.

"I took the liberty of drawing you a bath when I first boarded the bus. I'm afraid it's not a very large space, but I pray you will find it comfortable. He said, a sweep of his hands ushering her attention to the bathroom.

Christine couldn't help but sigh. A bath was what she really wanted. How kind of him.

"Thank you Erik, that was very thoughtful...but you did say that all of my clothes are on the Giry's bus...and I wouldn't want to cavort around in this all night." Christine stated, standing up. Erik nodded knowingly and allowed the bundle he was holding to unfold.

"Please forgive my forwardness, this will be a bit big on you dear, but you're welcome to wear one of my shirts until you can get your clothing back." He announced, holding it out to her. She smiled awkwardly but took the shirt into her hands.

"Thank you." She whispered, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Once she shut the door, she sank to the ground. It was positively nerve racking to be around him like that. She felt so incredibly small around Erik, and didn't know why. He was treating her like she was a princess, and it made no sense at all. She began to strip off her costume, happy to be rid of the revealing thing piece by piece. She was standing in her underwear when she began working on the clasp of her tube top. She cursed. She had forgotten that it was buttoned so intricately. Knowing that she'd never be able to get it off without ruining it, she stared at the door. She blushed furiously at asking him of all people to help her undress herself. She picked up a neatly folded towel and wrapped it around her waist to keep from cavorting around in her under garments.

She opened the door and found Erik to be sitting where she had left him. He held his guitar in his hands and played softly, not bothering to use a pick. He looked up when he heard the door open.

"Is everything alright Christine?" He asked. She blushed more, but walked a few steps toward him

"I can't get my top undone." She squeaked. Erik looked at her blankly for a moment, and then gave her a knowing smile.

"Come here." He said, turning on his seat. She approached him and folded her arms across her chest. Erik smirked at her and motioned for her to turn around. She did so and Erik's nimble fingers began unlatching her top. She held tightly to the front of her shirt to keep her breasts from spilling out once he was finished. He tapped her on the shoulder when he was finished, and she nodded her thanks, wanting to get away from his eyes as quickly as she could.

In her retreat, she stepped on the edge of her towel and tottered backward, causing it to come loose in the process. She gasped in surprise at her own foolishness.

Instead of toppling to the ground, she found herself against a warm body with a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. Erik's head was over her shoulder, both hands holding onto her dislodged towel. Much to her mortification, he smiled softly. He did not say a word, but simply wrapped the towel back around her waist and tucked it in securely. He pushed gently on her back, urging her to stand.

"Go and wash up." He said softly. Christine fled to the bathroom.

* * *

Christine sank down into the hot water with a gasp. It was almost too hot...exactly the way that she liked it. She welcomed the heat into her tired body and leaned against the rear of the tub. The bath was soothing to her nerves as well. Her face still held the redness of her recent embarrassment.

'I cannot believe my luck.' She thought, and could not help but laugh quietly to herself. Tripping over her towel and falling into Erik's arms...in her underwear. How perfect. Christine sighed as she thought about the look on his face as he tucked the towel back in around her hips. She couldn't help herself as her mind drifted to that sensual grin that was spread out on his lips. She wondered what lips like that could do.

She snapped out of it and shook her head furiously, cursing her wandering mind. 'You've just met him Christine. You've known him all but two days so stop it!' She blushed at her own thoughts and ran the soap over her body, trying to rid herself of these unclean thoughts...to no avail.

Here she was, lying in his tub, using his soap and towels...all things he had probably used before. It was very kind of him to run her bath, but at the same time she wished he hadn't. If he hadn't, she'd have been in the small shower by her bunk and probably not thinking of him like she was.

She finished bathing and felt around for the plug and pulled. The water drained out around her body and she slowly rose from the warmth. She grabbed her towel and dried off her now warm body. After drying her sopping wet hair, she turned to the counter where she had placed Erik's shirt. Picking it up, she unfolded it and held it close to her body.

It was a simple short sleeved shirt, black of course, but so incredibly soft. She pulled the garment over her body and felt immediate comfort from the softness of the cloth. She wiped away the haze from the mirror and surveyed her appearance. The shirt came down to her knees. She shrugged, hoping that it was appropriate. As she leaned down to pick up her discarded clothing, her face came in contact with the cloth. His cologne was still soaked into it. Had he worn this one today? Christine pulled the fabric close to her nose and marveled at how wonderful he smelled. She smiled and commanded herself to relax.

'So he gave me his shirt to wear, no big thing.' She told herself. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to Erik's room once more. Expecting to find him still at his chair, she was surprised to find him to be no where in sight. She placed her clothing on top of the bureau and settled into her chair once more. Feeling clean and warm, she cuddled up into the arm and watched the cars go by on the road. Hearing the door creak, Christine looked up.

Erik was there again, holding a small tray in his hands. He smiled warmly at her and sat down beside her.

"I am always famished after a show, and I thought you might be in need of nourishment as well." He said softly, setting the tray down on the small table between the chairs. Christine was delighted to see a plate of grilled chicken and vegetables being held out to her. She smiled in thanks and took the plate from his hand.

"Thank you Erik, that was very thoughtful." She said simply. 'And he can cook.' She thought. Erik nodded and began eating his food. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Erik looked up at her and smiled.

"Do you like wine my dear?" He asked. Christine was rather thirsty, and she had recalled loving wine the couple of times she had tried it.

"Yes I do." She responded, swallowing her food. Erik was an excellent cook. Erik nodded and poured her a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. Handing it to her, his hand brushed hers for a moment. Christine felt butterflies at the innocent gesture and took the wine glass quickly. Erik chuckled a little to himself.

"Did you enjoy your bath?" He asked. Christine nodded.

"It was very refreshing, thank you." She said simply, putting another fork full into her small mouth. Erik put his empty plate back onto the tray and folded his hands in his lap.

"Might I ask you a question Christine?" He said, smoothing out his thick black hair. Christine nodded. Erik looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Why are you frightened of me?" He asked softly. Christine's eyes went wide as she looked at him, her surprise clearly written on her face. "Wha, what?" She asked. Erik shook his head.

"Christine, do not play games with me. I know that you are afraid of me, I see it in your eyes all of the time. I simply want to know why you are so jumpy." He replied, his voice holding an air of amusement.

Christine gulped. He'd pinned her in a corner again, one that she did not know how to get out of. She stared at the floor, not knowing what to say. She felt his hand gently touch her cheek and turn her gaze back upon him. He was leaning towards her now, eyes sincere.

"I will not make you speak when you do not wish to Christine, but I will tell you this. I can assure you that you have no reason to be afraid of me. I will never allow any harm from my hand or any other's to come to you. I promise." He said his voice steady. Christine smiled slightly at him. His amber eyes burned into hers and an image of her lips on his flew through her mind. She blushed and looked away again.

Erik smirked and ran a long finger across her jaw line. She shivered at the simple touch.

"Do you trust me Christine?" He asked, his voice but a whisper. Christine's chocolate eyes stared straight into his. Suddenly, the answer was perfectly clear to her.

"Yes." She whispered. Erik's eyes were half lidded, warm and gentle. He brushed his fingers up her smooth cheek. Nodding slowly, his face held a look of satisfaction.

"Good." He whispered. He drew back and dropped his hand from her face. He picked up his plate and her empty one from her lap. He placed them back on the tray and exited to the kitchen.

Christine let out a breathy sigh. How was it that this one man could arouse feelings in her that others could not? She scolded herself for letting her guard down to a man she barely knew and promised herself that she would not forget her place around him. Falling for Erik was not an option. Not when he was her employer. She simply could not let that happen. Yet when he returned, she felt her heart falling a thousand feet a second at the sight of him. He hovered above her.

"Are you tired my dear?" He asked softly. Christine was not at all tired, but assumed that the correct answer would be yes. If she removed herself from the situation she was putting herself into, then she would be alright. She nodded and stood. Erik smiled and leaned forward.

"Goodnight then darling. I shall see you in the morning." He whispered. He bent forward and kissed her cheek softly in a friendly gesture. Christine could not stop herself in time as she turned her head, her lips meeting him full on the mouth. Erik drew back, startled. Christine blushed furiously for not thinking.

"I am so sorry Erik. I didn't mean to do that. I'm really sorry!" She said quickly staring at him, ashamed and she got up from her seat. Erik stopped her rambling when he stood up and placed his lips on hers again. Christine closed her eyes, savoring his mouth on hers. His lips were soft but firm. He drew back enough to see her face clearly.

"Yes you did." He said softly. Christine looked at him strangely, her lips on fire from his kiss. She touched her fingers to her lips and stared at him, watching his beautiful eyes dance. Erik chuckled.

"I will help with your confusion. You meant to kiss me and you know it." He laughed. Christine blushed harder. 'What on Earth have I done?' She thought. Erik stepped forward, pulling her small body into his hard sculpted one. She looked up at him, startled. Erik clicked his tongue.

"There's no need to blush darling, it was just a kiss." He whispered. Christine looked down, but Erik lifted her chin up, making her look him in the eye.

"Or are you blushing because you wanted more than that?" He asked. His eyes were dark now, his face serious. Christine could not believe what was happening. Erik's arms were wrapped around her, and he was all but making her tell him the truth. She swallowed hard.

"Erik...I..." She started, beginning to back out of the situation he had put her in. Erik shook his head, silencing her.

"Do not lie Christine. I will not have you acting shocked." He whispered, his mouth dangerously close to hers. His breath was warm against her face.

"If you want to kiss me, then do it Christine. If you do not, I will back away and we will pretend that this encounter never happened. It's your choice. Kiss me again or go back to your bunk." He said, his voice hard. Christine stared up into his dark eyes. Why did she want this stranger so badly? Why did it seem like he wanted her too? His mask made him look so demanding, but he was right. If she wanted anything from him, now was the moment of truth. She had messed up and allowed her feelings to get the better of her, and he was giving her the opportunity to take it back if she wanted. But did she want to? Did it matter that she barely knew this man? He held fast, arms still locked about her. She did not want to go back to the cold acquaintance she had been to him. She didn't know where this would go or what she would do after this night, but she couldn't allow this man to walk away. Christine trembled in his embrace, pressing her small mouth to his once more.

That's all the incentive that Erik needed. He crushed her body to his own, savoring her lips on his. He didn't know why this woman mattered so much, but dammit she did. Christine's mind screamed at her to use reason, but she was past caring. All that mattered was Erik. She was in his arms, and for the moment, that was all that existed.

She drew in a shaky breath as she felt Erik's tongue dart out from his lips, tracing hers, testing to see if she would let him in. She did, and Erik attacked her mouth with such passion that she felt her own body shuddering. She wrapped her arms about his neck, and pulled him in even more. She returned the passionate kiss and felt Erik tremble in her arms. A soft moan escaped her lips as he fisted his hand into her dark curls.

She felt her body being lifted off the ground and Erik cradled her against him. Her mind screamed as she felt her back hit the mattress of his bed and his body sinking over hers. She broke the kiss and pressed her hands into his chest.

Erik looked down at her, shaken, his lips parted and begging for more. Christine shook her head.

"Erik, we can't. I'm sorry. I can't make the kind of commitment to someone so fast." She whispered. Erik nodded quickly and straightened himself.

"I know. I am sorry Christine. I lost my head. I did not mean to push you so far. Please forgive me." He whispered, sliding off of her. Christine sat up in the bed and hugged her legs to her chest. Erik ran a hand through his hair. Christine touched his arm. He looked at her, his eyes full of disappointment but understanding.

"It's alright Erik. Really." She said. Erik nodded, and regained his composure. He helped her off of his bed and ushered her toward the door.

"I really do think we should say goodnight this time before anything else happens." He chuckled. Christine nodded and exited his bedroom. As before, he followed her and wished her goodnight at her bunk. He smiled tenderly and retreated. Christine climbed into the covers and pulled her legs up to her chest on her side.

"What in the hell just happened?" She asked herself aloud. She slapped a hand over her mouth again as she let yet another curse slip.

* * *

The next morning, Christine groaned as she felt a hand on her shoulder She blinked her eyes in protest of the warm sunshine beating down on her face through the blinds that she had left open. The hand on her shoulder shook her softly once more.

Her bed was warm and comfortable, and she could find no sane reason for removing herself from it and looking at the owner of the offending hand. She snuggled back into the feather pillows with a sigh. So Antoinette had come to fetch her once again. She needed the motivation.

"Do I really have to get up just now?" She yawned. A soft chuckle came from beside her.

"I'm afraid so my dear."

Christine rolled over in her bed and stared at the dark figure standing over her... Erik smiled at her sleepy form.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were Antoinette." Christine mumbled as she sat up in her bed, pulling the sheets around her waist. Erik chuckled again.

"May I sit down?" He asked. Christine nodded with a yawn.

"Sure, if you'd like." She answered. Erik swept forward, fully dressed and ready for the day's activities. Christine stopped herself from sighing outwardly as the smell of his aftershave drifted throughout her small space. He seated himself on the edge of her bed.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked simply. Christine nodded.

"Mmhmm. Though I will have to admit that I wish I was still sleeping." She said with a shrug. Erik smiled and studied her sleep tousled form. Without a word, he reached over and clasped the neck of her shirt. It had fallen down considerably, leaving one creamy white shoulder bare. His nimble fingers lifted it back to its' proper place. Christine blushed. Erik dropped his hand back down to his lap and cocked his head to the side, raising one delicious eyebrow at her.

"If I may say so Christine, you are incredibly shy. Is there any reason why?" He asked. Christine's gaze shifted down to her blanket covered legs.

"That's just the way that I am I suppose." She answered. Erik did not seem to be convinced in the least by her answer but dismissed it none the less. His long fingers drifted to her own delicate hand and rubbed small circles on top of her skin. Christine felt goose bumps spring up upon her flesh but tried to keep her cool. Erik smiled sweetly at her.

"Well there is no need for you to feel that insecure around me." He replied. One long finger traced the line of her jaw before standing up. He straightened his black t-shirt and turned to Christine.

"I'll let you freshen up. When you finish, I'll be waiting for you in the front of the bus." He said, his words slithering off of his foreign tongue. He stepped into the hallway and returned with Christine's luggage in hand.

"I took the liberty of recovering your clothing from Antoinette's bus." He sat the suitcase down next to the bed.

"Thank you." She said softly.

With a nod of his head, he strode from her little alcove and out of her sight. Christine sighed and placed her head upon her knees.

"I've really done it this time." She muttered to herself before dragging herself to the shower.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Christine made her way back up to the front of the bus. Her dark curls were pulled into a half back style, a few tendrils around her face giving her a soft look. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a green sleeveless tank top. After all, it was only warm-ups.

When she came around the corner, Erik was sitting on the couch looking intently at a French newspaper. His handsome brow was furrowed and his eyes burned straight through the paper. Christine smiled to herself. When he didn't think anyone was watching, he could be quite the little boy. His lips were set into a masculine sort of pout and Christine found her eyes locked to them. When she realized she was staring, she ripped her eyes away to the ground and cleared her throat.

The expression immediately left his face and he smirked at her as he folded the paper up and placed it on the coffee table before him.

"What was so interesting?" Christine asked, walking into the room. Erik reclined on the couch, crossing his arms across his chest and glancing down at the paper in question.

"It was a review of last night's concert. You seem to have been given quite the good word Christine." He said, his hand waving to the paper. Christine brightened.

"Really?" She gushed. She picked up the paper and unfolded it. Her eyes grew wide with excitement as she read the headline.

"Phantom and New Diva Dominate France."

Christine fought to keep herself from squealing as she bounced on her toes. That seemed too uncool around Erik. She smiled to herself and placed the paper back down. Erik's eyes were intently watching her.

"I told you that you did well." He said. Christine blushed again, forgetting how ridiculous she must have looked bouncing up and down like that. Erik smirked again and stood up.

"I do believe my dear, that we have a sound check in twenty minutes. I suggest we get going." He said, walking to the stairway. Christine nodded and followed suit. Once the pair exited the bus, Christine found herself looking at his masculine body as he walked. The muscles in his back rippled against the cloth of his tight shirt. He walked with the grace of a dancer but with the dominating presence of any alpha male. She finally allowed herself to admit that he was gorgeous.

When she looked up, Erik was looking back at her with an amused grin on her face. Christine blushed, knowing she'd been caught once again. She shoved the sunglasses that were on top of her head down over her eyes. Erik shook his head and turned back to watch where he was going.

She followed him into the building and took the glasses off. This was positively the largest venue yet. The interior was very elaborate, exquisite statues and paintings all across the silken walls. She marveled at the beauty of the place as she followed Erik to what must be the stage.

"So where are all your bodyguards?" She asked, attempting to ease the silence between them. Erik slowed down to a pace equal of her own so that they could walk side by side.

"I am a big boy Christine; I am perfectly capable of protecting myself." He answered. Christine rolled her eyes.

"I meant that I was surprised they left you alone." She offered. Erik nodded.

"True, but they know how I despise being followed around like that unless there really is a reason for them to. And while we are simply at the site of a performance then there is no need for protection." He said. Christine nodded in agreement. The pair rounded the corner and came upon the backstage area.

The red velvet curtains were drawn and the whole arena was lit up. Christine blinked. For the building being so large, the seating itself was particularly small. She heard Erik chuckle.

"The building's stature is deceiving, isn't it darling? One would expect a theater of this size to have an enormous hall. That is why I booked this venue. I like having more intimate shows now and then. It gets the audience more involved in the music." He said, walking toward the table where Antoinette was busily running through paperwork. She was writing on several pieces of paper and barking orders to anyone who walked up. As the pair approached, she looked up and smiled.

"Good morning you two. I was wondering when you were going to make an appearance." She glared at Erik.

"It is not like you to be late." She scolded. Erik raised an eyebrow and looked down at his watch.

"Antoinette, I am exactly on time. It is 9:30." He recanted. Antoinette frowned as she stood up.

"Precisely. I am not used to your being punctual. I am used to you being early." She said, walking towards the sound manager. Erik looked at Christine with a sigh.

"One would think that I was not in charge at all sometimes." He said under his breath.

Christine laughed lightly. He smiled at her, and she felt her insides melt. He averted his golden eyes back to the arena and Christine felt her breath catch. His eyes were practically dancing. His beautiful face was tranquil, and Christine longed to see it without one side of it being covered. She hated that mask. While it made him look mysterious, it also hid his beauty from the world. If only he would take it off.

She shrugged it off and went to the front of the stage for sound check as Antoinette shooed them to their microphones. The band was at breakfast so it would just be the two of them and a track playing in the background.

A sound tech approached the pair and handed them earpieces. Christine slid hers into her ear and pulled the microphone from the stand. It made a whirring noise as the sound crew adjusted the pitch and volume of the mics.

Erik sauntered to center stage and spoke into the microphone to test its volume. He turned to Christine and smiled at her reassuringly. She gave him a small smile in return and looked away from him.

She just couldn't bring herself to relax. She had kissed this man passionately only a few hours before and now she was here on stage with him, pretending like the relationship between them was strictly professional. Christine didn't know what to make of it. She drew little circles on the microphone with her fingertips as she thought. Could she even think of anything ever coming from her and Erik's little escapade the night before? She shook it off.

'No, probably not.' she told herself.

The music began to drift from the speakers as the sound technicians tweaked the sound according to the theater's acoustics. Christine felt Erik's eyes on her as they waited to practice.

"You do recall the words to this song, do you not?" He asked.

Christine gave him a nod. She had stayed up late rehearsing them, unable to sleep from their encounter. Erik eyed her carefully and then turned back to the man in the sound booth. He readied his microphone in his hand as he and Christine were given the cue to start.

The track began to play once more, and Christine watched as Erik released his beautiful voice into the air. It was raw with anticipation and with an air of...cockiness that she found absolutely thrilling.

_  
You need a man that'll treat you like the woman you are.  
Those little boys are just fooling around with your heart._

Erik's voice was like satin against Christine's skin, and she felt herself shudder at its' brilliance. She took a deep breath, and tried to block out the images of Erik's mouth on hers from her mind as she began answering his musical question, sliding her voice into the sound of the guitar.

_What are you gonna do  
Now that you're all alone?  
I need a rock, not a rolling stone._

Christine found a mysterious heat building inside of her as she sang of such wanting with Erik in her presence. They were singing of it together. She felt her chest tighten as she finally willed herself to look at him as she sang.

His amber gaze was molten, burning through her skin. She felt as though his eyes were looking into her soul. He narrowed his glossy brow at her and belted the next verse back at her, as though daring her to continue.

_So when a boy, just ain't enough  
You need a man made of stronger stuff  
Get ready._

The pair's entire attentions were locked on one another, oblivious to the world as Erik crept up to her. They both sang into their microphones in unison.  
_  
Rock steady all night long  
Rock steady till the light of dawn  
Slow and easy, tired and true  
Rock steady, just me and you._

Christine felt herself moving along with the music, growing more and more comfortable with it by the second. Erik followed her every move with a dark grin upon his face.

_You need somebody that will  
Help you with your heavy load  
Well I've been there baby  
Love can be a rocky road._

Erik's entire expression grew dark, and daring. His voice spilled forth as a test to her integrity...would she really say what the lyrics meant, and actually mean it.

_I can bend, but I won't break  
Cause you ain't got what I can't take._

Erik's taunting was driving Christine mad. She glared back at him, taking the bait.

_So when you're tired of those little girls and  
You want a woman that'll rock your world  
Get ready._

Erik's eyes widened at her strength of voice and how provocatively she sang that verse to him. The music stopped abruptly, leaving both performers in a state of incompleteness. Christine felt her heart sink to stop the intense song with Erik.

"That will be sufficient. You may go about your business now." Antoinette said her tone suspicious from viewing their spectacle. Meg stood behind her mother with a fascinated grin on her face.

Christine's chest heaved as she walked off the stage after ridding herself of her equipment. She felt so unfinished and incomplete for stopping their duet so abruptly. She handed the microphone and earpiece to the nearest stage hand and exited to the back hallway.

Finding a chair, she slumped into it and took a deep breath, trying to calm the feelings that had arisen inside of her. She could not help but want Erik, as scandalous as it sounded. He was night while she was day. He represented everything that she'd ever dreamed of, and everything that she was told to stay away from.

He was dark, provocative, and she dared to say sexy. She could not figure out what the hold Erik had on her was, and why she could not break it. She really didn't want to. She ran her hands up her temples and massaged them, trying to calm her nerves.

A warm hand slid over hers and she looked up. Erik stood there staring down at her cowering form. His eyes were burning into hers with a look of darkness. He stepped back and held out his hand to Christine. She looked at it dumbly, and then accepted it. He pulled her to her feet and started down the hallway with Christine in tow.

She stared at the back of his head as he led her down the deserted hallway at a brisk pace. She was bewildered as to why he was acting in such a manner but thought it better not to ask. He entered an adjacent hallway and fumbled with the door on his immediate right, never once looking at Christine's confused face. He opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. She did as asked without question and heard the door shut shortly after.

When she turned to ask him what was going on, Erik slammed her up against the closed door, crushing his lips against hers. Without a second thought she threw her arms around him and returned his passionate kiss with excitement coursing through her. This was what she wanted. She wanted to be in his arms again, yet she didn't know what made her want to be so badly. Erik drew back panting. His eyes melted into hers as he stared at her. Desire was written all over his handsome face in such a beautiful way that Christine felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Christine, I am sorry for my forcefulness. I could not help myself." He said through ragged breaths. Christine's eyes softened as he looked away, embarrassed for his forceful action.

"I didn't mind." she said. Erik still looked away, his arms propped up on either side of her against the door. She took a deep breath and continued. "For once, I'm not ashamed." She whispered. She turned his face back to her to see his eyes full of surprise at her bold statement. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips into hers.

Erik's hard body softened at her touch and he wrapped her in his embrace, holding her to him as they kissed. His tongue snaked its way into her mouth and she welcomed it with her own. His arms felt so good around her that Christine felt that what was going on between them couldn't possibly be wrong. She lifted her hands to his face to stroke his smooth cheek, and met only the hard porcelain of his mask. In the heat of passion, Christine slipped her fingers underneath the porcelain and flipped it off of his face.

Erik immediately reacted. He threw her away from him and staggered back. His hand was covering his unmasked cheek, horrified at what she had done. But it was too late, she had already seen. Christine lay crumpled on the floor of Erik's dressing room staring up at him. He backed himself into a corner like a wounded animal. His eyes were angry, yet...more ashamed than anything else. Christine looked up at him and felt the tears fill her eyes.

She wished with everything that she had that she could take back what she had just done. Erik's beautiful face was marred on the masked side. His skin twisted and bent in a way that could never been considered normal. He had no right eyebrow and his cheek was hallow and stretched. It pained her to see such a beautiful man stricken with such a deformity. Erik's body shook with anger and embarrassment that she had seen his face.

"Dammit Christine." He growled. "Why couldn't you leave well enough the hell alone?" He raged. Christine let the tears fall from her eyes. He had every right to be angry with her, and she would take what she deserved. Erik turned from her and stood in the corner allowing his body to take refuge against the wall. Christine longed to hold him and tell him how sorry she was but knew that it was no use. She found the strength to pull herself to her knees. Glancing to her right she saw the discarded mask on the floor. She picked it up in her fiendish hands and crawled to where he was huddled on the floor.

She placed the mask in his lap and sank back away from him. The silence she received from him broke her heart.

"Please leave me." He whispered brokenly. Christine nodded wordlessly and got to her feet. She reached for the door and looked back at him. He was visibly shaking with his anger and she let her own tears fall more freely. She was sorry for what she had reduced him to and left without a word.

TBC


	7. It's Hard to Say I'm Sorry

A/N: I promise I didn't die! This is what I get for working on three stories at one time. I apologize. =) But here I am! I'm back with another chapter and I hope you guys like where it goes. Sorry to leave you so long with such a cliff hanger. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

**Chapter 7: It's Hard to Say I'm Sorry**

Christine slid down to the floor as soon as she had shut the door behind her. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she slumped on the ground reflecting upon what she had just done. She had de-masked Erik, for absolutely no reason at all, and learned exactly why he had not wanted her to see his entire visage in the first place. Why had he kept his face hidden? She knew the answer.

Because of people like her.

Her selfish curiosity had driven the strong willed man to his knees; all because she couldn't keep her stupid brain from wondering what lay behind that porcelain mask. She wrapped her arms around herself as she thought about what kind of torture having a face like that must cause him. She knew that he must wear the mask because no one in this world of glamour and beauty would ever listen to his beautiful voice for a second if they knew what kind of deformity lay behind his mysterious facade.

She ran her hands through her curly locks and squeezed, as though pulling at her own hair would help ease the ache in her chest. How could he ever forgive such a deed when she could not even forgive herself? The dark hall brought her comfort, and she was glad to know that no one would come to this area of the venue.

Christine knew it was most definitely a good idea to get away from his dressing room and leave him in peace, but she simply could not force her legs to move. So there she was, slumped ungracefully on the floor, the only sound being the air conditioning in the building.

The silence was broken when she heard glass shatter on the other side of the door. She quickly turned and put her head against the door, straining to hear what was going on. She heard another shatter, and then an enraged cry as something splintered against the door.

Christine was startled and understandably frightened, but she knew she couldn't leave Erik in that state. He was likely to hurt himself if he kept up his raving, and she would not allow that to happen. She tried to turn the handle but it held fast. He had locked the door behind her. She beat on the door, but to no avail. The glass breaking behind the door drowned out her efforts. Finally Christine collapsed to the floor once more, beating her tiny fists on the wooden frame.

"Erik please!?" She cried openly. "Please let me in!" The sound of the shattering glass ceased for a moment as the door was unlocked and flung open. Christine's heart stopped as she looked upon the man before her.

Erik was heaving sobs his normally gentle eyes wide and mad as he glared at her. His arms and hands were splattered with blood from the shards of glass he had sent flying. Christine placed her hand over her mouth to suppress the gasp that threatened to escape her frightened lips. Erik's startled lips curled into a sneer.

"So you came back to stare did you?" He snarled.

He took her roughly by the wrist and dragged her back into the dressing room. He slammed the door shut and cornered her cowering form. Christine looked wide eyed at the damage that he had done. The once elaborate dressing room was ruined, and the shattering she heard was the mirrors covering the walls of the room. Each one was splintered and broken into thousands of pieces and scattered among the room.

He had taken her concern all wrong. So dreadfully wrong. Christine tried to look at the floor, but Erik's fingers curled about her jaw and jerked it back up to look at him. His eyes burned with an anger and sorrow that Christine had never seen in a man. Let alone a look she had ever expected to see in Erik's eyes.

"I'll have none of that Mademoiselle. You came to gaze upon what no one else had the will to see and you are damn well going to see it!" He shouted. Tears flooded down her cheeks as he held her brutally to him so that she had nowhere else to look but at her captor's face.

"Erik." She choked. His eyes narrowed at her.

"Does the little beauty have something to say to her beast? Does she?! Say it then!" He screamed into her face. Christine curled her tiny hands upon the large ones resting on either side of her face.

"Erik...I...I heard the glass breaking. I was afraid of what you may have done to yourself." She squeaked. Erik's eyes burned into hers, menacing, unforgiving.

"Afraid of what I may have done? Why the hell would you care what I do you little witch?" He growled, searching her face for answers.

Christine knew that this was not Erik talking to her. Erik was a sweet and gentle person. This was something dark and wounded; an animal that was trying to defend itself. That's what Erik was doing. He was trying to protect himself from her attack on his delicate barriers. She would never forgive herself for hurting him so much. But she couldn't handle him talking to her this way. Something snapped inside of her and she narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn't take his angry voice directed at her for another second.

"Because I care about you dammit!" She shouted, shoving away from his rough hold.

She stumbled back from him and sat with her back to the wall. She buried her face in her hands and shook, still afraid to meet his gaze. His anger had frightened her and hurt her more deeply than he could have imagined. She knew she deserved it though. After what she had done to him, she deserved whatever he said to her.

Minutes passed by and Christine heard the glass crunching quietly under heavy steps. She didn't even bother to lift her head, she was too frightened. She felt a presence beside her and dared to lift her eyes to meet his. The amber gems were not seething with hatred. This time they were full of despair inside of the mask that he had put back on.

Erik sat down on the floor and looked down at the ground beneath him that was scattered in pieces of glass. His face appeared to have softened considerably but the underlying emotion was still there.

"Forgive my outburst Christine. I did not intend to take such anger out on you. You are so young and innocent. You did not know." He said quietly, voice still stern. Christine looked up into his face. She knew that despite what he said, he was still considerably upset about what she had done.

"Forgive me for my actions." Christine whispered.

Her heart sank to see Erik so angry with her, but she knew that she deserved his vengeance. More tears slipped down her cheeks unwillingly as soft sobs racked her small frame. She felt stupid to be crying. That's what children do when they've been scolded. They cry. She did not want that kind of recognition. She wanted to show him that she was indeed a woman. Right now she was not succeeding. Erik's eyes shifted over to her weeping form. They grew softer as he wiped the tears from her face with his thumb.

"Please do not cry Christine. I cannot bear it." He said softly.

He sounded wounded, as though while he was considerably upset with her, he hated himself for the way he had reacted. He cleared his throat.

"I repeat that I am sorry for upsetting you. You must understand my dear. I am a private person, and when someone tries to pry their way in uninvited...I tend to react as such." Erik said, studying her face. Christine nodded.

"You don't have to explain Erik. It's alright." She whispered. It was then that she noticed the cuts that littered his forearms and hands.

"Erik what in the world possessed you to do that? You could've done some serious damage in here. Let me get Antoinette." Christine said frantically rising to go and fetch her. Erik held her arm fast, firm but gentle.

"That will not be necessary. I am fine; it is only a few minor things." He said, studying his wounded flesh. Christine sighed, and looked at him with a new sense of fear.

"May I at least clean them up?" She asked softly. Erik studied her face for a moment and nodded cautiously.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Christine smiled sadly and reached into the bag she had brought with her the first time she had entered. She brought forth a small first aid kit.

"What made you think to keep that on you?" Erik asked softly as she settled back beside him.

She gave a small shrug as she set about cleansing his arm. He winced at the first touch of the alcohol to his wound but Christine immediately blew on it to ease the pain. She looked up after the burning had subsided into his grateful eyes.

"I taught ballet in New York before I traveled to Paris. The little girls that were in my Pointe classes have had a few encounters with the plie bars and such, so it's not a bad idea to keep a first aid kit on one's person." She answered.

She continued to stare at his beautiful eyes. They were becoming much clearer; Erik was apparently regaining his composure. He nodded at her little story. They sat in silence as Christine dressed the rest of his wounds.

"There. Please don't do something like that again. You scared me." She whispered. Erik breathed a heavy sigh and touched a finger to her cheek.

"I hope not to scare you anymore petite." He answered. She nodded and inwardly agreed not to give him a reason to. She couldn't help but sigh in relief at his tone. A gentle tune floated from a bag at the corner of the room.

Erik excused himself and settled next to his bag, pulling out his cell phone. He talked for a few moments and then hung up. Turning back to Christine, he smiled for the first time since the incident.

"It appears my dear, that Antoinette was forced to cancel tonight's concert. This hall apparently has not been cleared yet this year by the fire department as being sound and supportive enough to handle this crowd along with the extensive pyrotechnics. It has been rescheduled for tomorrow night and the fire marshal will be coming in the morning."

Christine nodded, a little disappointed.

"You don't seem to be too disgruntled by that." She said. Erik smirked.

"You learn to appreciate a day off, no matter how you get them." He said with a chuckle.

She laughed lightly. The air between them was suddenly much more bearable. She felt relieved.

"So how do you propose you spend the evening?" Christine asked, dusting the broken glass off of her jeans. Erik slung the bag over his shoulder and held out a hand to her. She looked at it for a moment, and reluctantly took it. He pulled her to her feet and smiled.

"Well, I was either going to camp out at the hotel that we actually have this evening..." He began. Christine nodded.

"That sounds like a plan." She offered.

"...or, I thought I may take a certain prima ballerina out." He said, his eyes twinkling dangerously once more.

"Out?" She asked, puzzled.

Erik simply nodded at her.

"You shall see."

~*~

Within the hour, Christine had found herself asleep in a warm bed. Erik had sent her on her merry way with Meg and Jean and she was escorted to her hotel about a block from the venue. The hotel was lovely, with exquisite draperies and furnishings in the massive room. Christine had spent most of the day alone, except for the occasional visits from Meg.

The girls could talk about nothing but Christine's date with Erik. If one could call it a date. Christine hadn't brought any dressy clothes with her, so she was relieved when Meg had offered to let her browse through her extensive wardrobe once more. The day seemed to rush by and before Christine knew what had happened, she was pacing around the room waiting on Erik's return.

Christine sighed deeply as she stood up and walked into the grand bathroom again for the thousandth time.

She twirled about in front of the mirror, checking and re-checking herself. She wore a simple yellow sundress with thin spaghetti straps and a ruffled hem that brushed the tops of her knees. The garment clung to her thin frame and made her feel older, just the boost she needed around Erik. Brown wedged heels and a bangle bracelet or two completed the outfit.

Christine had decided to leave her hair loose, curls spilling delicately down her neck and shoulders. She ran her fingers through the curls to untangle them and she smoothed her dress down once more.

Taking a deep sigh, she wandered back into the living area. Erik had promised to call on her at six o'clock and it was five minutes before his arrival. Christine could not help but be a nervous wreck. She was still a bit skittish around Erik, especially after the earlier events of the day. She must not think upon them though, it was an incident she had to forget.

Christine was plodding across the room, internally giving herself a pep talk when a soft knock came at the door. She practically jumped out of her skin. She knew it was Erik; she didn't even have to look out of the convenient peep hole in the door. She drew a deep breath and picked up her purse. She walked to the door and paused at the knob.

She hesitated for a moment, and then forced herself to act naturally as she opened the door. Erik was looking down the hallway, running his fingers through his hair absently. He turned to her and smiled warmly.

"Good evening my dear." He said, his voice like velvet. Christine smiled lightly at him and nodded her head.

"Hello Erik." She said, trying her best to sound calm.

Erik was the picture of good taste. He wore simple black pants and a black button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black shoes graced his feet. He did not look like his typical rock star self tonight. He looked like a normal male. A very handsome normal male at that. His mask lay stark and white on his face compared to the blackness of his ensemble and Christine forced herself not to stare. Instead she gave him a warm smile and stepped into the hallway.

Erik's lips curled into a suave smile and he pulled his hand out from behind his back. He presented a single red rose to her.

"These are my favorite. I pray you like them as well." He said softly. Christine took the flower, and inhaled its rich scent. She was delighted by his sweet gesture and smiled to herself.

"They are mine as well." She answered.

Erik nodded for her to go back and put it away. Christine smiled and turned back to her room.  
She placed the delicate flower in a vase on the vanity and walked back out into the hallway. Erik pulled a hand from one of his pockets as she shut the door behind her. He held it out to her with a smile.

"Are you ready to leave?" He asked.

Christine nodded and slipped her hand into the one waiting for her. His fingers curled about hers and they began walking down the hallway. His hand felt warm and strong; Christine's heart skipped at the thought of how powerful a man with hands like that could be. The pair reached an elevator and Erik pressed the down arrow. The two stood in silence while they waited for the elevator.

Christine's heart thundered in her chest. She was going on a date with Erik, a beautiful, mysterious, and perhaps even dangerous rock star. In Paris. What in the world was she doing? She tried her best to throw off those insecure little thoughts as she stepped into the elevator. Erik stood close to her and smiled.

"You look stunning Christine." He said softly. A blush rose to her cheeks and she smiled sheepishly.

"Thank you. Meg allowed me to borrow her clothes again." Christine said. Erik chuckled.

"And once again, I approve of her tastes."

Christine found herself laughing at his little joke, and began to feel somewhat better. The elevator reached the bottom floor without a solitary stop in between. The doors opened and Erik's hand slipped into hers again. Christine smiled to herself and allowed him to lead her out into the lobby. Two guards jumped up from couches that they were sitting on and strode up to Erik.

"Antoinette just called sir. Everything has been cleared." One burly man said. Erik nodded his thanks and continued to lead Christine down another hallway.

"What was that about?" Christine asked, hoping to pry some information about the location of their trip out of him.

"Nothing for you to be concerned with my dear." Erik said with a smile.

A guard opened a door and Erik slipped inside with Christine in tow. Christine's eyes widened at what she saw, a smile coming to her lips.

The hotel that they were staying at was extremely lavish and had its own dance club for the most elite of customers. Christine now knew what he was up to. He was taking her dancing in style!

There were many people already dancing, all members of Erik's crew. Christine laughed as she watched a drummer try and dance with one of the wardrobe assistants. Antoinette sat at a small table with Meg, sipping a drink and talking with her daughter.

Christine felt instantly better to have so many familiar faces around her. Erik seemed to already know much about her and she was grateful for his wise judgment. She looked up to find Erik's eyes upon her.

"Are you pleased?" He asked.

Christine nodded and dared to hug him close. She felt his body tense beneath her, and then relax as he slid his arms around her waist to return the embrace.

"I'm so glad." He whispered.

His eyes were so intense, eyes that held a softness that she had never seen in them before. The Erik from earlier was but a memory in those eyes. Her thoughts were broken when Meg ran up to her.

"Christine! You look wonderful!" Meg said, throwing her arms about her friend. Christine hugged her back and smiled her thanks. Meg beamed up at Erik.

"Thank you Monsieur for having this little party for us all." Meg added. Erik's lips curled into a soft smile and he nodded his head.

"You're welcome Meg. And please, feel free to call me Erik. You have known me for so long that Monsieur sounds too formal to my ears." He stated. Meg looked at him dumbly, and then smiled.

"I will Erik!" She said, turning to go and speak to her mother.

Christine looked up at him, surprised. Erik never gave anyone his name, or so Meg had said. Erik caught her looking and smiled down at her.

"She is a sweet girl, is she not?" Erik asked. Christine nodded.

He was in excellent humor for the evening, and she was itching to ask him what the cause was. She decided better of it and remained silent.

The softly playing music shifted into something fast and fun. Across the room, Meg slammed her drink down on the table and ran back up to Christine.

"Come on Christine! This is an American song! You have to dance!" Christine laughed at her enthusiasm, but nodded just the same.

"Sure Meg. Just have patience with me; I've never danced like those people." She said, gesturing to the crazies already dancing in the center. Meg beamed and grabbed her hand dragging her to the dance floor.

Erik watched her go and sighed. He strode across the room and sat down next to Antoinette.

Christine laughed as she watched Meg dance along with the first lines of the song. Meg, noticing she wasn't dancing, took her hands and started moving her along with the beat.

"Come on Christine! It's fun! Anyone can dance to this, especially a ballerina! All you have to do is try." Meg yelled over the blare of the music. Christine nodded and let herself relax as she moved the way Meg did to the music.

_"Got to meet the hottie_

_With the million dollar body_

_They say it's over budget_

_But you'd pay her just to touch it_

_C'mon!_

_Need to hit the big screen_

_And shoot a little love scene_

_If Hollywood had called her_

_She'd be gone before you holler_

_C'mon!_

Christine laughed as she moved along with Meg. The rest of the band members on the floor noticed them and moved up alongside them, everyone dancing in a big cluster. Christine had never felt so untamed or free before in her life. She enjoyed the feeling.

Antoinette sat her drink down and stared at the dancing mob.

"Christine seems to be having fun with Meg." Antoinette said, looking over at Erik who was studying the drink in his hand. He turned to her and smiled.

"I'm glad she is. She needs to be herself more." He said, taking a sip of the drink. Antoinette raised an eyebrow.

"I'm surprised that possessive streak in you hasn't come out yet. I can tell that you feel something for her Erik." Antoinette said, leaning over the table. Erik sat the drink down and smirked at her.

"Oh you can, can you? Tell me what would make you think such a thing?" Erik answered. Antoinette's lips curled into a smile.

"For one, the way you sang together on stage this morning. I could tell that it wasn't just the music you were into with her. And two..." Antoinette looked off at the dance floor.

"If you paid attention to the dance floor, you would have already been out there claiming what you stubbornly think is yours." Antoinette said with a laugh.

Erik turned his head to the direction in which she was referring and his jaw fell ungracefully.

Christine was laughing and dancing amidst the rest of his band. The way her body was moving along with the music made her look all the more entrancing. She had caught on quickly to Meg's movements. Erik stood up and left the table, Antoinette laughing as he did so.

_"You naughty thing_

_You're rippin up the dance floor honey_

_You naughty woman_

_You shake your ass around for everyone_

_You're such a mover_

_I love the way you dance with everybody_

_The way you sway..."_

Christine threw her head back as she danced, the music drowning her fears. Her dark curls bounced along her shoulders as she danced. Meg looked off in the distance, eyes wide and then back to Christine with a devilish smirk. She was about to ask what was up when she found out.

Erik slid in front of her, hands coming on to her waist; a sexy smirk across his handsome features. Christine blinked in surprise as he pulled her closer to him.

"You seem to have had your lesson in dancing Christine. Now it is time that I take you away from your teacher so that you can show me what you have learned." Erik called over the music. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"Dance with me like you danced with her." Christine felt her heart beat rapidly in her chest when he cooed into her ear. She nodded at him with an unsure smirk.

_"Crafty little lip tricks_

_Tattoos on her left hip_

_She's bending while you're spending_

_There's no end to it so baby c'mon_

_Dressed up like a princess_

_Betting that her skin smells_

_Better than the scent of_

_Every flower in the desert c'mon!_

Much to Christine's surprise Erik's body slid into the rhythm that she and Meg had been making, but much more...provocatively against her body. Erik looked into her eyes and dug his fingers lightly into her waist. Christine moved along with him, their bodies pressed tightly to one another. The world blurred out leaving nothing but the music and Erik's body against hers. His eyes burned into hers and she watched as his lips parted, breathless from the feel of their bodies so close together. Christine slid her hands up his chest and curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, claiming him, pulling him closer to her own body. Erik smirked in response to her possessive gesture and slid his hands around her back, causing her flesh to burn with his hands on her.

_"She loves the night scene_

_Bar queen, living for the fun_

_Taking over every dance floor_

_Like she's the only one._

Christine threw her head back in a gasp, the heat between their bodies so intense that she could hardly stand it. Erik watched her with half lidded eyes, lips parted. Christine found herself wanting him so badly that she could taste his kiss in her mouth. With him pressed so tightly to her, she could not help but want him. Not caring who saw her, Christine reached up and slid her hands into his hair crushing her lips to his.

Erik did not hesitate to return her kiss tenfold. His tongue curled into her mouth, tangling around hers, desperate for something that she could not even comprehend. Christine moaned into his mouth, the only sound in her head being the beat to which the music ground their hips together.

_"In the spotlight all night_

_Kissing everyone_

_And trying to look so innocent while sucking on her thumb_

_So much cuter when you never pull it out_

_So much cuter with something in your mouth..."_

As the last chorus played and the song ended, Christine broke her mouth from Erik's, eyes wide at what they had just shared. They stood still, trapped in one another's arms breathing unevenly. The crowd around them had been too entranced in their own dancing to even notice the bond the two had shared on the dance floor.

Erik's lips sighed softly and then he ran a hand up her cheek. Christine blinked up at him.

"Erik...I..." Erik placed a finger to her lips and curled his hand around hers. He quickly led her from the dance floor and out of the club.

TBC

A/N:

Woo I know you love my cliffies. Haha. Another update soon! Promise! Also, the song mentioned in this chapter is "Something In Your Mouth" from Nickelback's Dark Horse album.


	8. Is This Real? Rated M

A/N: I am so glad that you all like this re-write so much! Thanks for the great reviews of chapter 7! It really motivated me to hurry up with this next chapter...this is probably the one that you've all been waiting for… kinda.

To those that have been keeping up with ff dot net news, they are hardcore enforcing the NO MA content. So, I have to be careful with this one. It's edited to go along with the guidelines, but you can read how it is REALLY supposed to be on adultfanfiction dot net under this same penname.

See, you can have your cake and eat it too!

**Chapter 8 – Is This Real? (Rated M)**

Erik nodded curtly to the men guarding the door of the club as he briskly walked to the elevator. He would have grabbed her up and ran with her had he had his way, but he did not wish to alert the security team which stood watch in the hallway.

Christine's heart thundered as her chest as she followed along behind Erik. She did not know what was about to take place, but she did know that whatever happened was something that she desperately wanted. She didn't care if she had only known this man for a very short period of time, he was what she wanted, what she needed.

When they reached the elevator, Erik calmly reached out and pressed the up button. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and gave her a light smile. Christine meekly smiled back at him and then his eyes averted back to the gold doors in front of them. The door chimed softly and slid apart. Erik gestured for her to go in and she did so.

Before Christine had time to react, the elevator doors closed on her and Erik. The wind was knocked out of her as her body was slammed up against the rear of the elevator, Erik's mouth firmly on hers. A moan escaped her lips as his tongue thrust itself into her mouth, twining around her own.

"Erik..." She tried to speak through his kisses. "Erik, what...what if someone stops the...the elevator?" Christine gasped. Erik broke the kiss to look heatedly into her eyes.

"In all honesty Christine, do you really care?" Erik breathed, his voice raw with desire.

He studied her face for a moment. When she did not answer he captured her mouth once more. Christine's eyes fluttered shut as she allowed him to take possession of her mouth, creating a fire in her limbs that she had not felt before.

It was true, she could care less if someone stopped the elevator on their way up. The passion that they were sharing was the only thing that mattered, his mouth on hers blinding her from coherent thought.

The soft ding of the elevator sounding brought Erik's mouth away from hers again. The door opened and he clasped her hand in his own. He walked down the hallway at a brisk pace leading her through the dim light. He nodded his head to another couple as he pulled Christine along behind him. He came to her door and walked on by.

"Erik...where are we going?" Christine asked, still breathless from their encounter. Erik looked back over his shoulder at her, his eyes burning through his mask.

"My room." He murmured his voice deep with strain.

Christine did not question him. At this point she was past caring what happened now. Erik rounded the corner and came to a small hall with one room. Christine knew it had to have been one of the private suites for it to be so secluded. He released her hand to slip his hand into his pocket and pull out his wallet. He withdrew a key card from it and slid it through the card slot in the door. The small light on the door flickered green and Erik pushed the unlocked door open.

He turned to her with stormy eyes and waited for her to enter. He was giving her the option to leave before it was too late. He did not force her into the room; he simply stared at her with passionate eyes, allowing her to choose their destiny. Christine swallowed and put all regrets behind her as she slipped past him and through his hotel room door. She heard a soft intake of breath come from Erik as she slid past him.

This time it was she that overwhelmed him. She threw her arms around him before he had time to shut the door, crushing her small mouth to his. Erik wrapped his arms about her and kicked the door shut in one smooth movement. His right arm wound itself about her neck, fingers twining in her curls. Her body was on fire, every inch of her screaming for his touch, his attentions. She drew his lip into her mouth and nibbled gently on his soft skin. Erik shuddered audibly and lifted her off of her feet.

Never taking his mouth from hers he blindly made his way through the darkened suite. Never bothering to turn on a light, he cradled her body against his as he fumbled down a pitch black hallway and into the grand bedroom. A faint light from a wall sconce gave him the illumination he needed to step up onto the oak stair before the four poster bed and deposit her dainty form in the center. She sank into the softness of the mattress and stared up at him, chest heaving.

"Erik..." She whispered, voice unclear. Erik slid his body over hers and propped up on his arms, almost touching her body.

"Christine. I want there to be no regrets. You know this." He rasped, looking down into her chocolate eyes.

Christine trembled at the sound of the need in his voice. Her hands slid up to his chest, feeling the strength that lay in his muscles. The night before she had turned this man down, seeing the idea of the position she was in once again as far too dangerous. A part of her changed as she lay beneath him. That side of her that was open to reason and pleaded for her to listen to her mind disappeared. She gave into his darkness. She embraced his power. She welcomed his danger.

"Then let there not be any talk of regret." Christine whispered, tangling her fingers in his shirt.

* * *

Later, their slick bodies lay against one another, both panting for air and thoroughly spent. Erik summoned the strength to lay back against the pillows. He turned his gaze to her exhausted form and cuddled her up to his side. She gratefully fell against him, resting her head against his damp chest.

Erik sighed heavily, a smile curling onto his lips.

"Rest mon ange. Rest and I will watch over you." The words had barely left his lips before Christine fell into a deep, heavy sleep. Erik's lips brushed her forehead and he allowed himself to succumb to sleep.

The sound of Christine's cellular phone woke her and Erik with start. Christine gathered the blankets around her small form and dashed over to where her purse lay overturned on the floor. Without a second glance to the person who was now devoid of bedclothes, Christine flipped open her phone and mumbled a sleepy, "Hello?" Static popped in the background.

"Miss Davenport?" Came the reply. It was a man, most definitely an older gentleman and Christine cleared her throat as best she could.

"Yes, yes this is she."

"Miss, this is Detective Darien Black from the New York police department. It has been requested that you come down to the station immediately." His voice chirped. Christine's brow narrowed, confused.

"Immediately? Sir, I am sorry, but I am in France at the moment. What could possibly be so suddenly important?" She asked, looking out into the stormy night. The man paused.

"Miss Davenport, we apprehended Mr. Clayman about an hour ago." Christine felt her heart drop down into her toes. When she did not reply, he continued.

"It is recommended that you find the earliest flight back to New York City, Miss Davenport. It is imperative that we have you here when Mr. Clayman goes to trial. The court date is set for May 28. Good night, miss." With that note, the detective hung up the phone.

Christine stood there wide eyed, shaking with cold and realization clutching the phone to her chest. A still sleepy Erik sat up in bed.

"Darling, is everything alright?" He asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

Christine kept her gaze out the window, as though she had not even remembered that he was in the room.

"Alex..." She breathed.

Dropping the phone from her grasp, Christine slid down to her knees on the soft carpeting, hugging herself as she stared at the lightning streaking by the window. Erik slid gracefully from the bed and padded over to her side. Kneeling beside her, he rested his large hand on top of one of hers.

"Christine? Is everything alright?" He repeated. He placed one of his hands on her face. "You're as white as a ghost."

Christine shut her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. Emotions flickered across her face as she remained silent for a few moments. Erik studied her face as he waited for her to collect her thoughts. She finally looked up at him. Her eyes were rimmed with tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks once more. Erik frowned and pulled her close to him.

"What is it Christine?" He asked again. Christine ran her hand through her curls nervously and forced herself to look into his eyes.

"Erik, I have something that I need to tell you." She began softly. Erik nodded, urging her to continue. She swallowed and wiped at her eyes.

"That was the police department in New York." Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Why would the police be calling you Christine?" He asked. Christine looked down at the phone on the floor.

"They found the person that murdered my parents." She whispered. Erik blinked in surprise.

"What?" Erik asked, not knowing what to say. His eyebrows furrowed together. Christine shook her head.

"I know that I should have told you before, but I didn't know how." Christine whispered.

She pulled away from Erik's questioning stare and stood up. She sat down in a chair next to the opened French doors and closed her eyes. Erik sat watching her, waiting for her to explain. Christine wet her lips and finally laid her eyes on him.

"His name is Alex. He and I dated some years ago when I first began college at NYU. For the longest time he tried to get me to become his steady girlfriend, but I refused because my studies were so important to me. My parents were against me having a boyfriend at that time in my life, and I really respected everything they told me. I listened and told Alex that I wasn't interested." Christine whispered.

She looked down at her feet while Erik silently waited for her to continue. She looked up at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"I don't really know what happened Erik. He went crazy. He told me that my parents had too much influence on me, and that he was going to take care of it once in for all."

The tears that Christine had been holding back spilled from her eyes, and she wound her hands in the sheets that covered her body. Erik got on his knees in front of Christine and pulled her hands from the sheet. Before he could speak, Christine said,

"I just wish I would have dated the bastard. I feel so responsible." She sobbed. Erik squeezed her hands gently.

"Darling, you are not responsible for this. It is not your fault at all." Erik said softly, attempting to use his melodic voice to soothe her. Christine shook her head violently, and stood up.

"Yes it is Erik! Do you know how hard it is to find out that your parents were killed at your own house? A place that you thought was safe? Do you? I could have stopped it. I couldn't done something." Christine shouted. Erik got up off the floor and placed his hands on her forearms.

"You could not have done a thing. Do not blame yourself Christine. I am sure that your parents do not." Erik offered, rubbing her arms. She looked at him so helplessly.

"You don't understand Erik. You can never understand what it's like to lose a parent like that. You didn't have to go through anything of this magnitude." She said bitterly.

Erik's stare grew colder.

"You know nothing of loss." He whispered.

Christine ran her hands through her hair, massaging her temples.

"Erik, I appreciate your concern, but I'd appreciate it if you just left it alone. You have no idea what I'm going through, so don't tell me to let it go." She said. Erik was out of his chair in an instant.

"Do not sit there and act like I have lived a life of wine and roses." He spat. "My own mother did not want me because I look like this. I was left in an orphanage like an insignificant piece of nothing. Do you have any idea what it's like for people not to give you any chance at all because you look like a monster? The reason why I don't understand is because I've never had what you had." Erik roared.

Christine instantly regretted what she had said to him, having forgotten all about his face. Erik's eyes narrowed as she stood before him, completely still and wide eyed.

"Erik, I'm sorry...I had no idea." She said softly. Erik turned from her and walked to the balcony, placing his head against the cool glass. At those words some of the strong restraint that Erik held snapped.

"Sorry." He said, looking outside. "You are sorry?" He rounded on her, his eyes on fire. "I do not give a damn if you are sorry Christine. I do not want you to be sorry." He growled.

Christine backed away from him, surprised at his sudden flare of temper. Erik's heart panged to know how off guard he had caught her, but he could not control himself. He truly did not want her to leave.

"So what are you going to do Christine? Run back home and leave all of this behind?" He asked. Christine stared at him.

"Erik, I really don't have a choice." Christine sobbed.

He narrowed his eyes as he walked back to the bed. He picked up his discarded pants off of the floor and shrugged them onto his tense body. He turned back to her and sneered.

"Then go. Just go." Christine whimpered as she felt her heart break under his stare.

"Erik, why don't you understand how important this is? My parents meant the world to me, and now I can close the door to what happened those years ago." She asked. Erik picked up her dress and threw it at her.

"They mean more than I do I guess." He said through gritted teeth. Christine's expression fell into that of confusion. Then it hit her, he really didn't know what it was like for someone to love you unconditionally. He didn't understand at all.

"Get dressed and get out Christine. Go home where you belong." Erik snapped, turning from her again.

"Erik..please..." Christine began. Erik whirled around.

"I said, get out." He growled. The tears fell from her eyes as she turned and fled the room, fumbling into her dress as she went along.

Erik heard the door slam and flopped down into the chair which she had recently occupied. He was angry with her for leaving, and angry with himself for not being able to understand why she had to leave. He was stubborn, and she knew that, but he had never meant to hurt her. He put his head in hands and sobbed, for reasons that he did not even understand. He sat there brokenly, a part of him crying out for Christine but he forced himself to remain where he was; wallowing in his own despair as Christine fled down the hallway to her room.

Nine hours later, Christine stepped out of a taxi in front of her New York apartment building. She had left word for Antoinette about the circumstances of her departure and left on the earliest flight to America. With the help of the driver, she managed to get her bags up the four flights of stairs and into her darkened apartment. She tipped the driver and sank down onto her couch.

So much had happened in so short of a time. They had found her parents murderer and she had lost the man of her dreams in one swoop. She did not know why Erik could not understand but she did not have the strength to withstand his temper until he could listen to reason. She looked at her tear stained face in the mirror on the wall and shook her head. Was she not meant to be happy with anything in her life?

Not knowing what else she could do to keep herself from thinking of him, she grabbed an umbrella and stepped out into the pouring rain. If focusing on Erik was too painful, then perhaps the matter with her parents could be tolerated. She opened the umbrella and set out in the direction of the police precinct closest to her apartment.


	9. The Crow and the Butterfly

A/N: Hello all! See, I'm not dead after all! Just merely overworked, under paid, and over stressed. I am getting married in a week and that has taken up all of time as of yet. But I wanted to get a chapter out for you guys! Thank you so much for sticking with me and for your awesome reviews! I love you!

**Chapter 9 – The Crow and the Butterfly**

Christine looked around the busy streets of New York and instantly longed for the warmth of France. It was as bustling and chaotic as America, that was true, but there was a certain air to the place that comforted Christine. Maybe that was because Erik was there.

She shrugged off the thoughts of Erik and his beautiful homeland and back to the task at hand. What would she say to Alex? What could she possibly say? She had been dreading this day for so long that she was not prepared when the day had actually arrived. She told herself to remain calm and stoic towards him, not to let him see how fresh her wounds still were. It would be easier that way. Easy. She scoffed at herself for even thinking that this could be easy. If only it were that simple.

Christine approached the 43rd Precinct building and walked up the worn steps with heavy limbs. Once under the awning, she closed her umbrella and shoved it inside its plastic covering and snapped it closed. She straightened her pants suit and pulled the double doors open. She remembered this building very well. She had been there often directly after her parents' death. It was still just as cold, dreary, and full of sadness. Those were the only words she could think of to describe the place as she walked up to the chief whom was currently propped up on his desk taking a snooze. Christine waited for a moment and tapped him on his shoulder. He opened his eyes abruptly, and stretched.

"Yes ma'am, what can I do for you?" He asked, stretching his arms above his head.

"I'm sorry to disturb you sir. My name is Christine Davenport. I was called back from a vacation by Detective Darien Black. He told me that I was needed back in New York." Christine said calmly. The man slid his feet down from the desk and stood up, features unreadable. He knew exactly why she was there to see Detective Black.

"Come with me miss." He said, turning and walking into the back offices of the precinct.

Christine followed along silently as they walked through the building. The riffraff of New York sat in chairs at desks being fingerprinted, questioned, or sometimes even subdued. She watched a man being tackled onto a desk by two policemen as a female stood by with her arms crossed, reading him his rights.

Christine shivered at the sight and focused on the task ahead of her. She was led through another hallway and into the row of private offices. The policeman tapped on the door on her right and poked his head inside, mumbling something to the occupant. He withdrew his head and opened the door wide, gesturing for Christine to go inside. She nodded her thanks and stepped inside.

A short, squat man sat behind a desk sipping at a cup of steaming coffee. He was in his late fifties, with hair neatly combed into its salt and pepper colored style. His light grey eyes flicked up to her and he immediately put the coffee mug down. He dabbed at his lips with a napkin and stood to greet her.

"Miss Davenport. I am surprised to see you home so soon. I was expecting you to come much later." He admitted, extending his hand to her.

She took it and shook it lightly. He released her hand and gestured for her to take the seat in front of his desk. Christine settled into the slightly uncomfortable chair and placed her purse in her lap. Detective Black folded his hands on top of the desk and looked at her.

"I'm sorry to have had to call you back from Europe, but I do hope you understand how urgent of a situation this is." He said solemnly. Christine nodded.

"Trust me sir, I understand. This is has been something that I have been hoping to put behind me, so I appreciate your insistence to call on me in France." Christine answered. He nodded. He paused for a second and cleared his throat.

"We would like you to testify at Mr. Clayman's murder trial." He said softly. Christine shut her eyes.

"I know." She said simply. Detective Black looked upon her with as much compassion as he could muster.

"I'm glad you realize how important your account of Mr. Clayman's character is in this situation. You will not have to see him until the trial if you do not wish to." He said with the gravest of smiles. Christine shook her head.

"I'd rather not." She said softly. Detective Black placed his hand on top of hers in a fatherly gesture. Christine looked up, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Christine, I cannot even begin to fathom what kind of pain that psychopath put you through, but I assure you, we will do our best to make sure that Mr. Clayman gets what he deserves." He said darkly. Christine nodded.

"Is that all you needed from me?" Christine whispered, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. He nodded. Christine rose from the chair and slid her purse over her shoulder. Detective Black stood to bid her goodbye.

"Thank you for your time. The prosecution team should be getting in touch with you within the next day or so, so I would highly advise not to leave New York for the time being. You are the key witness in proving Mr. Clayman's guilt, and we need to keep you close by." He said, walking to the door. Christine walked through the door and let a tear finally slip.

"Trust me Detective....there's no reason for me not to leave New York." She whispered, nodding her head and slipping back down the hallway.

A knock came at Erik's hotel room door. Erik's eyes shifted to the sound and he furrowed his brow.

"Go away Antoinette." He called gruffly.

Without invitation, the door swung open and Antoinette strode into the room, replacing her key into her pocket. Erik narrowed his eyes.

"I do not believe I invited you in." He grumbled, turning from her and back to his glass of liquor. Antoinette put her hands on her hips.

"And I don't believe that I give a damn as to what you want Erik." She snapped back. He rolled his eyes.

"Why were you not at sound check this morning?" She asked. Erik cut his eyes at her as he sipped his drink.

"It is really none of your business." He answered. Antoinette came around the couch on which he was lounging and frowned.

"The hell it is. Dammit Erik, you have a show tonight. You were needed at your own sound check." She fumed. Erik regarded her nonchalantly.

"Tell them to cancel it then." He said, about to take another sip of his drink.

Antoinette darted forward and pulled the glass from his hand and threw it against the wall. It shattered with a dull thud and fell to pieces on the carpet. Erik leapt to his feet.

"What the hell is your problem Antoinette? Have you gone mad?" Erik spat, looking down upon her with menace. Antoinette poked her index finger into his chest.

"You are my problem actually. Stop pouting about Christine and get your act together. Be a man." She shouted. Erik's eyes danced with anger, his jaw setting into a scowl.

"You know nothing about what happened between Christine and I so I suggest you cease talking about it." He growled.

"I do know that you are a complete ass when you are drinking." She said. Erik walked away from her in a huff.

"How dare you come in here and insult me like this. You have no idea what is going on." He shouted, placing his hands on the mantle piece. Antoinette stood her ground. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She threw it to the ground in front of him.

"Why can't you understand anything Erik?" She asked.

Erik turned and saw the piece of paper lying on the carpeting. He snatched it up and ran his eyes over the elegant handwriting.

"Antoinette,  
I deeply apologize for what I must do, but I must depart France. I understand what kind of position this must put the tour in, but problems have arisen in America. I have been called upon to testify in the case of my parents' murder. I simply cannot remain on your staff while I am needed in New York. Please tell Erik that again, I am sorry and that I hope he will understand. He seemed to be quite angry, but perhaps you shall help him understand why I must leave. He does not comprehend such things. Take care of him. He needs to be guided. I only wish that I could be the comfort and guidance that he needs. Again, I apologize. Give Meg my regards.

Sincerely,  
Christine Davenport."

Erik looked up, stunned. Antoinette looked at him and shook her head.

"Erik, did you blast her for leaving?" Antoinette asked, exhausted. Erik gripped the paper in his hands and shut his eyes.

"I did not want her to leave. I lost my temper." He whispered. Antoinette groaned in exasperation.

"Just like you always do when things are not to your liking. That girl, God help her, cares about you Erik. Can you not see it? Can you not tell that she looks upon you with adoration? And all you worry about is your own skin. That girl needed your support, and all you did was blast her because you weren't getting your way. Not everyone in this world is out to get you!" Antoinette shouted. Erik glared at her and pulled the mask from his cheek, shaking it in front of her.

"Then why do I have to wear this damn thing? If everyone accepted me, then I would not be so bitter, damn you." He roared. Antoinette stood, unmoved. She had seen Erik's face before and she pitied his deformation. But at this point, it was not his face that was ugly.

"Did Christine see your face?" She asked simply. Erik blinked, and nodded. Antoinette laughed.

"Why did you do it?" She asked, not really speaking to him.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He spat. She rounded on him, smacking him in the chest.

"You say that no one will accept you because of your damned face. Christine left because of your violent temper and your stubborn pride Erik. Not your face! She stayed Erik. She cared. You're bitter because you can't stop feeling sorry for yourself!" Erik looked at her dumbly. No one had dared talk to him that way, but something inside of him crumbled as he realized that she was right. What had he done? Erik turned and looked out the window.

"So what are you going to do Erik?" Antoinette asked. He shut his eyes as a tear slipped down his deformed cheek.

"Cancel the show Antoinette." He whispered. Antoinette's eyes grew wide.

"Cancel the show? Why?" She asked. Erik turned to her, not caring if she saw his tears.

"I'm taking the next flight to New York City." He said softly.

- - -

"Thank you sir."

Erik took his passport back from the man at the customs counter and trudged his way through the airport in New York. He looked around for some sort of area that had a map of the city. He cursed himself as he found one and looked over its complex readings. He had been so focused on getting on a plane and finding Christine that he failed to think of the most important factor of his search. He had never even been to New York.

As a matter of fact, he had never been to the United States. So here he was baggage along side of him in a country that he had never once set foot in.

"Now I know how Christine felt when she came to France." He mumbled under his breath.

He picked up his things and tried to ignore the odd stares that he got from a few people. He had also forgotten that he was an unknown name in America. While he considered it a blessing to be able to move about as he pleased, he also had to remember how strange his mask must look in this foreign country. He brushed the thoughts off as he continued walking through the airport. He was looking around for some sign of the exit when he heard someone behind him calling his name.

"Erik!"

Surprised, he turned around to see a petite blonde running after him, a small amount of luggage in tow. Erik's perplexed look caused her to laugh. When she reached him she paused to catch her breath before speaking.

"I know you are surprised to see me here, but I know you have never been to America and I thought you might need some help finding Christine. This place is horrendous when you have no idea where you are going. I have Christine's address. Maman called the record label that she is employed with and they gave it to her straight off." She said, yanking her luggage up to her side. Erik cracked a small smile for the first time since Christine had left.

"I am surprised to see you, but I do have to admit...I really am glad to see you Meg."

After leaving the precinct, Christine trudged back to her apartment in the heavy rain. Her eyes downcast, she walked along the sidewalk with tears streaming down her face. Her parents were gone. Erik had pushed her away. She did not have any friends, really. Who could she turn to in a situation like this? It hurt her to think of the answer. There was no one. She wiped angrily at her tears as she pressed through the stinging rain to get back to her apartment. She walked by a small sidewalk cafe that had several people eating under the awning and listening to a local radio station. She closed her eyes tightly and her breathing felt constricted when she heard what the DJ was saying.

"Now here's a new addition to our Underground Friday program. You know how it works, we pick a band that is relatively unknown and you guys call in and tell us what you think. You like it, we play it again. This band is a bit of a different case, seeing as they are wildly successful overseas. Give them a listen. Brand new single from Phantom, a rock band straight out of Paris, France."

Christine gripped the fence near the sidewalk as she found herself unable to move without listening to the song. It was one she hadn't heard before. It must have been one that Erik was waiting to perform...

_I painted your room at midnight_

_So I'd know yesterday was over_

_I put all your books on the top shelf_

_Even the one with the four leaf clover_

_Man, I'm getting older_

_I took all your pictures off the wall_

_Wrapped them in newspaper blankets_

_I haven't slept in what feels like a century_

_And now I can barely breathe_

_Just like a crow chasing the butterfly_

_Dandelions lost in the summer sky_

_When you and I were getting high as outer space_

_I never thought you'd slip away_

_I guess I was just a little too late_

It hurt for her to hear his voice. It shouldn't, but it did. The passion behind his words made her miss him all the more. She should walk away and remove herself from her torment, but she couldn't seem to make her legs move.

_Your words still serenade me_

_Your lullabies won't let me sleep_

_I've never heard such a haunting melody_

_Oh it's killing me_

_You know I can hardly breathe_

As the song went into the pained chorus once more, Christine took off running down the sidewalk but she couldn't escape the sound of his voice or the lyrics. They were already burned into her brain. By the time she was out of earshot, she had reached her apartment complex once more. The haunting sound of his pained voice and the lyrics to the song caused her anguish to begin anew as she walked up the flights of stairs to her apartment. She stuck the key in the lock and slipped inside. Hanging her coat up on the peg beside the door, she shut it and locked it back. She turned and flopped down onto her couch, placing her head in her hands and allowed herself to fall apart. She fell onto her side and held the pillow as she allowed herself to let all out all of her anger and frustration.

In her troubled mind she still replayed the words to his song.

_Just like a crow chasing the butterfly_

_Dandelions lost in the summer sky_

_When you and I were getting high as outer space_

_I never thought you'd slip away_

_I guess I was just a little too late_

She fell asleep as the words played their haunting melody over and over in her head.

A pounding on Christine's door shook her from her from the sleep that took her in the course of her misery. She glanced at the clock on the wall; it read a quarter after seven. She had been asleep for six hours. She stumbled to her feet and tried to make herself presentable in the mirror. Detective Black wasn't kidding. The prosecution was not wasting time on getting her story. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and unlocked the door. She pulled it open and tried her best to make a smile to whoever was on the other side.

"Meg?" Christine asked, astonished.

Meg threw down her bag and threw her arms around her friend.

"Maman told me what happened! I am so sorry." She said, releasing her friend from the bear hug she had caught her in. Christine smiled sadly.

"How did you find me?" She asked as she picked up her bag to place it inside her apartment, motioning for her to come inside.

"Maman called your record label and told them the circumstances of you fleeing from France. They were rather concerned as well. Your manager gave her your address so that I may find you." Meg said, not moving from her spot outside the apartment.

"I am so glad to see you." Christine said softly, and she meant it. Meg sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know if that feeling will last much longer." She said solemnly. Christine looked at the girl with a questioning look as she laughed uneasily. Meg waved down the hallway.

"I brought him with me Christine."

Christine watched with surprise as Erik emerged from the dark hallway, bag in hand. She did not know whether or not to be grateful or furious with Meg for bringing him back to America like this. He looked tired, but he still held that arrogant air about him.

"Erik?" Was all she managed to say as he walked up to them. He nodded to her, face unreadable.

"Christine." Christine looked at them both, not knowing what to make of the situation. She looked at Meg accusingly. She held up her hands in defence.

"He foolishly flew himself to New York last night, and I knew he'd get himself in trouble so I followed to make sure he found you." Meg said before Christine could question her.

"But you've never even been to America before." Christine said as she looked at Erik. He ran his hands through his hair.

"No, I have not." He said as he looked down into her eyes. Meg looked from Erik to Christine and decided it was time to make her exit.

"I'm just going to take a walk. I'll be back in a few minutes." She said as she turned on her heel and trotted back down the stairs.

"May I come inside?" Erik asked. She looked at him and then ventured inside, without voicing her consent. He followed behind her and shut the door. Before he could open his mouth, Christine rounded on him, eyes angry.

"You have some nerve coming here like this. First you woo me. Act like you really do care about me and want to be with me." She began, walking towards him. Erik was surprised at her sudden anger, but knew that he deserved it.

"I do care about your Christine, that's why I'm here." She held up her hand, silencing him.

"I was not finished. You got me to sleep with you, and then you blow me off like yesterday's news when the slightest problem arises. I needed you Erik! And all you worried about was yourself! I can only imagine what you've been through, but if you stopped to think of someone else for one damn second, you'd realize that someone else may be in the same boat." She yelled.

Erik looked down at Christine's beige carpeting, averting her angry stare as long as possible.

"Look me in the eyes, damn you, and tell me why all of the sudden you feel compelled to be here." She demanded. Erik looked up at her, his usually unreadable face saddened.

"Because I was wrong. I'm sorry that I couldn't understand why you had to leave. I turned my back on you. That's how I've handled things all my life." Christine shook her head, glaring at him.

"So that's your answer to everything Erik? Just walk away when you don't get your way? We have both been dealt a bad hand in this life Erik, but that doesn't mean that you cannot strive to be everything that you can. You can't turn and walk away just because you think you've been wronged. Sorry does not make it right Erik. I cannot depend on someone who shuts me out when he doesn't understand." She cried, angry tears spilling down her cheeks. Erik's brow furrowed, and he snapped.

"I didn't want you to leave! Is that so hard to understand? I didn't want you to leave me!" He growled, walking away from her.

She stared at his back not sure of her emotions. He turned to look at her, a tear falling down his perfect cheek.

"Everything I have ever cared about has been taken from me alright? I care about you Christine. I didn't want to lose you too. I felt like I was at another dead end. I can't help but be that way." He said softly. Her heart softened.

"But I had to leave. That doesn't mean that I did not want to be with you. I would have come back." She said, approaching him once more.

"But I didn't know that." He said, sitting down on her couch, looking up at her.

Christine was confused about what she should do or say now. She was angry at him for his actions in Paris, but she was equally happy that he had tracked her back to New York. It warmed her to know that he cared. She walked over to where Erik was and knelt in front of him.

"Erik, you need to learn how to trust me. If you have any feelings for me at all, you have to trust me." She said softly, placing her hands on his knees.

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with emotion. He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear, searched her face for a few moments,

"Christine, it's not that I don't trust you. I'm scared I'm going to do something to betray yours in me, and I don't want to force you away." She looked at him questioningly.

"But why do you feel that way?" She asked. Erik shook his head sadly, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Christine, I am an angry, stubborn person. I'll admit that much to you. Sometimes I do things that do not even make sense to me, and turning my back on you in Paris was one of them." He said. Christine nodded.

"But why the change of heart?" She asked. Erik sighed.

Because I realized when you left that I am in love with you, and I can't bear to lose you now." He admitted.

Christine sat there in awe. He loved her. The Phantom, the most stoic and unmoving person she had ever met...admitted that he loved her. She studied his face for a few moments, taking in what he had told her. She could not help but throw her arms around his neck, and hug him for all she was worth. Erik was stunned for a moment, and then his arms snaked their way around her, holding her close to him. She smiled into his neck, a few tears trickling onto his skin. He chuckled as he held her, his arms growing tighter around her small frame.

"Well, you took that better than I thought you would have." He said into her hair.

"Shut up."

Erik laughed bringing Christine against his chest and hugging her close. He released her enough to look into her eyes. Christine leaned forward and kissed him softly. He shook his head as he looked at her.

"And to think all this happened because Antoinette gave me a good thrashing." He said with a chuckle. Christine smacked his chest.

"I knew I liked her."

The doorbell sounded again and the pair looked up. Christine shuffled out of Erik's embrace and unlocked the door. Meg stood there, soaking wet from the rain.

"Okay, I know you're trying to fix things, but can I come back inside yet? It's positively dreadful out here." She asked, wringing out her shirt. Christine laughed and pulled the girl back inside the apartment.

"Come with me; let's get you some dry things." Christine said slinging Meg's bag over her shoulder and dragging her back into her bedroom.

Erik regarded the pair with a small smile. He was certainly thankful to Antoinette for her lecture. Christine was worth every hardship and new experience he would be forced to face. And he would face them gladly, knowing that she would be there for him. He moved and heard something rustle beneath him. He scooted over to discover that he had been partially sitting on a newspaper. He opened it up and read the headline.

"Davenport Murders Uncovered: Alex Clayman arrested Saturday." It said. Erik skimmed down the article to see the two pictures that were gracing the cover. The first was of Alex Clayman being ushered into a police car, and the other was of Christine and her parents many years earlier. Erik shut his eyes and put the paper on the coffee table.

He would be there for Christine. He would be at that trial, and come what may they would be happy. He would make sure of that.

TBC

A/N: The song insert is _The Crow and the Butterfly _by Shinedown.


	10. Chase the Shadows Away

A/N: Man, I am on a story updating spree! I have a new method of updating my now…um…FIVE stories I have going at once so that none get neglected. Thank you all for sticking with me and waiting for updates! I love you all and I hope you enjoy – I gave you all a little something in this chapter to redeem myself. XD

**Chapter 10 – Chase the Shadows Away  
**(Explicit Content Warned)

A noise in the next room woke Christine from her deep sleep. She sat up in bed and peered into the darkness, looking groggily over at the alarm clock next to her bed that read 12:15AM. She continued to hear someone shuffling around and she ran her hand over her face in an attempt to get the sleep out of her eyes.

"Meg? Meg is that you?" She asked. A light from the opposite room clicked on and Meg appeared in the doorway, fully dressed.

"I'm so sorry Christine, did I wake you up?" She whispered, as she fastened one of her earrings into place. Christine frowned as she slipped from her bed.

"What in the world are you doing? Go back to bed." She said, turning on the light next to her bed. Meg leaned into the room and grabbed a jacket from the counter top.

"I'm going out." She said simply, walking fully into Christine's room. Christine raised an eyebrow at her and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Meg, are you sure that your mother would approve of you traipsing around Manhattan at this time of night?" Christine asked sleepily, walking to her closet door and opening it. She pulled her robe off of the hook inside and yawned as she slipped her arms inside.

Meg rolled her eyes as she shrugged on the little black jacket that she held.

"Christine, it's only midnight. It's not that late, and I probably know these streets better than you do. And I'm from Paris!" She scoffed, as Christine crossed her arms over her chest again.

"Well you can't say I didn't offer my best advice, which was to go back to bed." She said softly, but firmly. Meg shook her head as she slipped her purse over her shoulder.

"Please Christine. It's really alright. I called up a few party goers that I usually spend time with on my trips to New York, and they are meeting me at the front of your apartment building. If you are really feeling like that much of a mom, you can watch me from the window." Meg said, slipping into the living room.

Christine followed her and they quietly approached the door. Meg unlocked it and slipped into the hallway. She turned and patted the key the key in her pocket.

"Don't worry Christine. I do this all the time." She said with a wink, and then she was gone. Christine shook her head.

"Well, be careful." She called down the dark hallway. The only response she received was the tip-tap of Meg's shoes heading down the hall. Christine turned and bolted the door back and leaned against it. She felt bad for mothering Meg, she had only known the girl for a short time, but she really valued her friendship. Sometimes Christine wondered if the girl really used her head at all.

"Why am I always the responsible one?" She whispered out loud. A soft chuckle answered her. She looked up to see Erik leaning against the doorframe from the guest bedroom.

Christine looked up at him with a light smile. She had fallen asleep shortly after giving Meg some dry clothes to wear, and Erik had felt badly about their previous encounter that he didn't want to risk waking her, therefore he slept in one of her guest rooms.

"You are only the responsible one because you wish to be." He answered for her, as he walked towards her. Christine shivered as she watched his form move slowly through the moonlit room.

"I hope my talking didn't wake you." She whispered, staring at him.

He moved like a cat, his movements fluid but slow. Christine didn't know why by when night fell...she became that frightened girl once again, watching and waiting for him to make his move. His smile warmed her body, as did his arms as they enveloped her small form and drew her close to him. She laid her head against his chest, grateful that he was back in her arms once more. He placed a feather light kiss on top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair

"I was awake my dear. Your girlish conversations are what drew me from my bedroom, but did not wake me." He answered, tucking a fallen curl behind her ear. He released her from his arms, and looked down into her eyes.

"Are you tired ma petite?" He asked softly, the French accent rolling off of his tongue like velvet. She shivered at the sound of his voice and the endearment he spoke, but nodded her head.

"I am tired, but I highly doubt I'll be able to go back to sleep. I don't sleep well once I am woken up." She said softly. Erik chuckled.

"Then we shall have to scold Meg for being so loud in her exit." He responded. He grasped her small hand in his and led her away from the small foyer.

"I know something that might remedy that insomnia you are suffering from." He offered as he walked into his bedroom. She smiled up at him, and yawned.

"What do you have in mind?" She asked. Erik leaned down and unlatched the clasp of the travel bag he had brought with him from France. He put his hand inside and came out with a small bottle filled with a purplish substance. He stood and held the bottle out where she could see.

"A jasmine bath might do the trick, and I happen to have brought some jasmine for you from Paris." He said. Christine felt something stir in her belly, but ignored the feeling for the time being. A bath sounded positively wonderful, the jasmine would be the icing on the cake. Christine nodded her consent and Erik led her back to her own bedroom.

Christine sat on the bed while Erik ran her bath for her. Staring out into the night, she had a million things on her mind. Was Meg alright? She had not watched her leave the building like she should have. Would she be home before dawn? And then there was Erik. Oh Erik. He was such a blessing, but sometimes downright aggravating. She never dreamed that something would have become of the bond the two shared for music and performing. Was it too good to be true? Would it last? She shook away the thoughts of the most pressing matter in her world at the time. Filling her head with thoughts of the trial would never allow her to rest.

She was shaken from her quiet reverie by the touch of Erik's lips on her temple. She looked up into his dark, but loving eyes as he held out his hand for her to grasp. She took it and he pulled her from her spot on the bed and into the bathroom.

Christine breathed in the scent of jasmine and sighed as she looked at the inviting bath before her. Erik pressed his lips to the little place behind her ear and kissed it gently.

"I'll allow you a bit of privacy Mademoiselle." He whispered, slipping from the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Christine smiled at the closed door, making a silent prayer of thanks that this man was in her life. She slipped off her fluffy robe and the rest of her garments and slid down into the steamy bath.

She gave a sigh of contentment as she sank back against the lip of the tub, allowing her body to relax. Erik really did think of everything. A few moments later Christine saw a candle flicker in the mirrored wall. She looked up at the reflection as saw Erik re-enter the dark room, his long body filling the doorway as he sat the candle down on the counter top. He turned his eyes to Christine, eyeing her with gentle awareness. Christine shyly pulled her knees up to her chest when she realized that Erik was looking at her. He shook his head as he strode to the tub and knelt next to it. He offered Christine a small smile.

"We shared love with one another mere nights ago, and you're still hiding from me. Oh, ma petite how sweet you are." He whispered, leaning in to give her a light kiss on the cheek.

Christine shivered at the simple touch on her face and turned her face away, looking at the water swirling around her. She heard Erik chuckle and then shift around behind her. She looked over her shoulder at him as he draped a towel across his legs.

"What are you doing?" She asked. Erik clicked his tongue at her.

"Ah, this is part of the therapy. Relax my sweet." He said softly in her ear. Christine nodded and turned back around, and slid her knees back down into the warm water. A blush burned her cheeks as she heard his silky laughter in her ear, but did her best to ignore it. He had seen her naked before, why was it any different now? Something told her that it would always be different with Erik, no matter how many times they may be together that way.

"Lean your head forward." He said. Christine complied and felt warm water splash down on her head, drenching her hair and face. It felt nice, and the action was repeated several times.

"Lean back against the tub again." Christine slid back to her original position and smelled the jasmine strongly behind her. She sighed as Erik's hands gently snaked their way into her hair, massaging the shampoo he held into her scalp.

"You're washing my hair for me." She said with a smile. Erik chuckled.

"My pleasure." He said, leaning forward and kissing her earlobe.

Christine shivered and looked back at him. His eyes were downcast at her shoulder, but she could see his beautiful eyes through his heavy black lashes. They were filled with darkness and desire. They flicked back up to hers again and he urged her to turn back around. He poured water over her head and rinsed the shampoo from her dark curls. He ran his fingers through them to untangle the dark mass and allowed his fingers to drift down her back. She turned around in the tub and faced him. Erik's eyes searched hers for a moment, wide with surprise and intrigue. She stared back for a second; unsure of what she was attempting to do. On instinct she leaned forward over the lip of the tub and pressed her lips to his. He moaned into her mouth and slid his hands down her slick skin, settling on her shoulder blades. Christine broke the kiss to look back into his heated gaze.

"I need you." She whispered, searching his eyes.

Erik's eyes darkened and he rose from the floor to his feet. He held his hands out to her and Christine took them, standing before him. He drank in the sight of her naked body once more and Christine shivered under his heavy gaze.

"What do you want Christine? Tell me what you need from me." He asked, tracing her cheek with his index finger. She kissed the tips of his fingers and pulled his hand flush to her face, cradling against her cheek.

"Love me." She whispered.

Erik dropped his face to hers and kissed her deeply. His tongue slid along her lips, testing her. She opened her mouth to allow him deeper access and the kiss grew into a wildfire. Her hands tangled in his hair and slid down to either side of his face. She felt the cold porcelain of his mask as she kissed him. She drew back from him and brought her hands to the hem of his shirt. Erik smirked at her as she pulled the fabric up and over his torso, tossing it onto the floor.

"My angel has grown into a demon, has she not?" He joked, as he stepped out of his pants. Christine allowed her hands to travel over his bare chest and she cuddled against him.

"There's nothing demonic about the way that I want you." She whispered.

Erik's comical smile turned into that of sincerity. He quickly shed the rest of his clothing under Christine's watchful gaze. He stroked her hair and wrapped his arms around her petite body. Christine leaned backward and Erik looked down at his feet as she pulled him over the edge and into the tub. She pressed down on his shoulders and Erik slid down against the lip, coming to rest at the bottom of the tub. Christine slid down on her knees between Erik's legs. She leaned forward and placed a light kiss on his perfect cheek and then on his porcelain duplicate. She cupped his face and searched his eyes, afraid to speak.

"I want to see you." She felt Erik tremble beneath her as he turned his face away.

"Please do not ask that of me Christine. I do not know if I can give it." He said softly. She turned his face back to her.

"Erik, let me love the man behind the mask. I want to see you, not what you hide behind. I love you, and I want to love all of you." She whispered.

Erik's eyes searched hers frantically and then dropped to the water. He reached up and gently pulled the porcelain from his face, placing it carefully on the side of the tub. He sat there waiting, ashamed but steady.

Christine studied his deformed flesh with loving eyes. It brought tears to her eyes to think about what horrors he must have suffered throughout his life. She pitied him for his hardship, and admired him for his strength. She traced the hardened tissue with her fingertips and kissed his lips gently. Erik looked up into her eyes, and she saw something in his that she never thought she would see.

Fear. A tear slipped down her cheek as she gathered Erik close to her body. Erik shuddered against her and allowed a few tears to trickle down his ruined face.

"Were you in an accident?" She asked as she stroked the back of his head. He shifted his face from her shoulder and laid a soft kiss on her skin.

"I was born this way." He answered pulling away from her. He took her hands into his own and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"I don't understand why I feel this way so quickly, but I truly care for you Christine. You are like nothing I have ever seen before." He said. She smiled at him and squeezed his hands.

"I am so sorry." She whispered. Erik shook his head.

"No, do not be sorry. I don't want you to feel pity for me." He said quietly, glancing down at the floor. Christine turned his face back to her.

"No, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry that I didn't understand when I left Paris." Erik's looked down at the water.

"You did not know. Do not think on it. I apologize for not understanding you either." He said softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I love you Erik. I know that I may be impossible, a child even, but I love you so much." She declared, hugging him fiercely. He did not say a word, but she felt the way his heart quickened it's pace, and that's all the answer she needed.

She leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss tenfold, running his hand up into her hair and gently taking a fist full. Christine moaned at the contact, leaning against him and pushing him back against the lip of the tub. She grinned through the kiss as Erik groaned when she straddled him in the water. Breaking the kiss, she looked him through heavy lidded eyes as her hands slid down his chest and into the water. Her fingers curled around his already hardened length and she watched with delight as his eyes snapped closed from the gesture.

"Oh God, Christine." He hissed, as her fingers teased and stroked him.

She loved the look of abandon on his face as she pleasured him. She felt truly grateful that his mask was now off. She could see all of his expression and it aroused her further. Christine surprised Erik and herself as she paused her ministrations upon his lower body and instead guided herself onto him. Erik's eyes snapped open in surprise and pleasure as Christine took him inside of her. He growled at the expression on her face as she began to slowly rock her hips over top of him. He gently but firmly took hold of her hips, relishing in the vision of his angel on top of him.

"You little vixen." He said huskily, allowing her to take charge of their love making and enjoying every second.

Christine smiled at him as she placed her hands on his shoulders, moving her hips faster. She threw her head back at the sensations she felt beginning to build in her groin as she rocked over top of him. Erik watched with parted lips as his angel began to bite her bottom lip in pleasure, closing her eyes. He was undone when a low moan rose from her mouth.

He growled and stood, lifting her from the tub in one fluid movement. Christine was intrigued but not surprised by his strength and she wrapped her legs around him, not wanting to break their intimate contact. Erik stepped out of the tub and quickly strode over to her marble countertop. Christine expected him to head to the bedroom and was surprised as her body touched the cool marble surface. She gasped as Erik began thrusting deep into her and she gripped his shoulders as her hips began to follow his rhythm. Erik closed his eyes and threw head back in pleasure. God she was so tight! Christine's eyes fluttered open as she heard the phone ring from the bedroom. Erik did not pause in his movements and leaned her back further, her head touching the mirror behind them.

"Let them leave a message." He growled.

Christine felt her release building as she dug her fingers into his broad shoulders and gasped out his name. She let out a shaky breath as her orgasm hit her, her vision swimming and her body trembling against the cool countertop. Erik followed shortly behind her crying her name at his release. His body shook against hers and Christine wrapped her arms around him, holding him as he came back down to earth.

He said nothing as he withdrew for her, placing a light kiss to her temple. Christine watched lovingly as Erik released her to pick up a washcloth from the side of her tub, dampening it in the water, and cleaned them both up. After releasing the water from the tub, he picked her up from the counter and took her back into her bed. She sighed as he slipped in beside her and she snuggled against his chest.

They lay there, silent, for a few minutes when the phone began to ring again. Leaning over, Christine snatched the table off of the night stand and answered with a quick "Hello?"

Soft laughter came from the opposite end.

"Hello Christine." Christine's eyes narrowed and she looked at Erik as propped up on one elbow.

"Who is this?" She asked.

The voice chuckled again, and she felt a feeling crawl up her spine, strangling the warm feeling she had from their lovemaking. Something was very, very wrong.

"I would think you would recognize me. I've been all over the papers this week my sweet." Christine sat up in horror.

"Alex?" She whispered breathlessly.

"That's a good girl." Erik placed a hand on her arm, alarm written all over his de-masked face.

"How did you, how...how did you get this number? How did you find a way to contact me?" She asked, looking at the caller id. It was an unknown phone number, but she could not see well enough in the darkness to read the name on the screen.

"You should know me well enough Christine, to know that I have my ways through anything. I'm not finished yet my love." He cackled through the phone.

Christine's mind flew a thousand miles a second; trying to fathom what evil deed he may have done to get in touch with her.

"Speechless? Well let's just say...the police in this great state of New York know nothing about securing a prisoner transfer." He said darkly. Christine's eyes widened and fear gripped her.

"You didn't…?" She asked, yet she knew it was a pointless question.

"You don't give me enough credit baby. I'm only doing this for you." Christine shook her head furiously.

"Don't call me baby! I'm calling the police Alex." She cried into the phone.

"Not if you value that little dancer girl you've been spending time with." Her heart stopped dead in her chest.

"What have you done with her?" She whispered.

He laughed again.

"Oh she is perfectly fine. Needless to say, she shouldn't go out on the street unattended. She might run into some bad people. And you...should watch your back better. You never know when someone may be watching you. I've got friends all over this city and you know it." He cackled.

"Leave her alone Alex. Wherever you've taken her, you let her go!" She sobbed into the phone.

"Don't threaten me Christine. You know what I'm capable of. For now, Ms. Giry is fine. But you watch your step. And if you go to the police...don't expect to see her again. I'll be in touch beautiful." With that the phone clicked off.

Christine stared at the dead receiver. She couldn't control the sobs that came out of her mouth as she wrapped her arms around herself. Erik had sat up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She sobbed brokenly into his shoulder as he held her.

"Erik…Erik, he has her." She cried, her voice muffled by her sobs and her face being turned into his shoulder. Erik shushed her as he rocked her back and forth.

"Who has her Christine? Talk to me, and we can fix it." He whispered; fear gripping him at the sinking suspicion he had.

Christine shook her head violently as her sobs grew louder.

"Meg! Alex has Meg! And we can't fix it! No one can fix it! This is all my fault!"

Erik felt the sheer rage overcome him at her revelation and he fought to keep his hands from shaking. He gritted his teeth as he held Christine to him. It would do no good for her to see him lose his wits. He stroked Christine's hair as he reached around behind her for the phone that she had deposited back in its cradle.

Christine pressed back in his arms with a wild look on her face.

"Erik you can't call the police! He said he would kill her!" She cried. Erik shook his head and placed a finger over her lips as he dialed the numbers. He pulled Christine back in his embrace and held her while she tried to stifle her sobs.

When the person on the opposite end answered, he replied with, "Antoinette Giry, and make it fast."

He would find her; he owed it to Antoinette and Christine. Hell he owed to it to Meg as well. Alex would pay, and dearly.

TBC


	11. Inside Out

A/N: Oh boy did I go AWOL this time. I am so bad at this updating regularly thing and I am so very sorry you have to wait so long on me! Just know that no matter how long it takes in between each chapter, I will always be back! I will continue to try and juggle my crazy life to do this!

I hope you enjoy after such a long hiatus!

**Chapter 11: Inside Out**

"That was Antoinette." Erik explained, sitting back down in the armchair he had occupied earlier.

Christine's heart sank. How would she tell her about Meg? As if he read her thoughts, Erik turned to her.

"She has already been contacted by Meg." He said simply.

"What?" Christine asked, shocked. Erik nodded.

"She was being fed what to say of course. Antoinette said that she sounded completely terrified." He said, staring at the phone.

"What did she say Erik?" Christine got up off of the bed and hurried over to where Erik sat. Kneeling at his side she grasped his hand. Erik remained silent.

"Erik, I know you're trying to shield me from something. You were speaking to Antoinette in French. A thing you rarely do, and I'm not so daft as to not pick up on it. Please tell me what has happened now." She asked.

He turned to look down at her, and ran his hand down her jaw line. His lips formed a tight line as he contemplated how to tell her what he had to say next.

"It just so happens that that psychopath has discovered that you are on tour with me. Somehow or another, he was able to find out that you were singing backup in our show. Don't ask me how, considering I am not that well known in the United States. He was able to get out of Meg that her mother was my manager and the sick bastard's wheels began turning." He said angrily.

Christine searched his hard face for answers, waiting for him to continue.

"He wants you for Meg. No police." He said. Christine bit the inside of her cheek.

"Me? Why me?" Christine asked, dumbstruck.

Erik looked at her seriously, taking one of her hands in his.

"Because he is obsessed with you, that is why. He has not gotten over it during his current stint in prison and wants everyone to suffer until he gets what he wants."

Christine looked down at the thick carpeting, contemplating her next move.

"I guess that we should arrange for the exchange." She said, voice thick with fear.

"The hell we will! Christine, this is not up for negotiation. There will be no bargain. I will not turn you over to a murderer." He said roughly, shocked that she would even consider that to be an option.

"Erik, those are his terms! Me for Meg! She hasn't done anything and should not be in the middle of this, and neither should you! She is my friend, and I will do what I have to to protect her." Christine said sternly.

Erik's visible eyebrow narrowed at her.

"I said this is not up for negotiation. Antoinette and I are working something out. You will not be turned over like a form of payment. And that is the end of this conversation. We will get Meg back, but not at the cost of you."

Christine opened and closed her mouth again. She knew better than to argue with him. She looked down at her knees, trying to figure out what she should do.

"I owe it to Antoinette, Christine. It's not your fault he found out who I was. "he said, soothing her with his rich voice. They were silent for a few moments, Erik simply looking at her with worried eyes.

"What is your plan?" Christine asked, placing her hand atop his knee. Erik covered her small hand with own and gave it a light squeeze.

"Meg's...his instructions were for you to be brought to the final performance of the tour back in Paris, at the Opera House. Only then, would Meg be returned to our care." He said darkly.

Christine's mouth dropped, horrified. She stood up quickly.

"Erik, no! The tour isn't going to return to Paris for another two weeks! God knows what he will do with her between now and then!" She cried.

Erik stood up, his dark figure looming over her.

"Yes, Christine I know. I am worried too, but that is the best we can do for now." He said, his eyes searching hers. Christine bit back another sob.

"So what will we do?" She asked, hugging her own body close. Erik stood strong in front of her.

"We shall return to France and continue the rest of the tour. No one must suspect anything. If the police get involved, I fear for Meg's safety."

Christine nodded, wiping angrily at a tear.

"The police told me to stick close by." She offered softly.

Erik shook his head. "I think your presence in the city is the least of their worries for now. If it will please you, we can have them informed that you are in protective custody until he has been found."

"I'll go and pack my things." She whispered, turning back to her closet. Erik sighed and exited the room to give her a moment alone. He strode through the living room and back to his own quarters. He sat down on the bed and pulled his phone from his pocket. He looked at it for a moment before pressing numbers on the keypad and placing the device to his ear.

"Hello?"

Erik swallowed.

"Antoinette, it's me again." The woman sighed.

"What has she decided?" Antoinette asked softly. Erik pitied Antoinette for the hard time she would have to endure during this ordeal. Even when her only child was missing, she still tried to pretend she was made of steel.

"Christine shall return to France with me, I will go and book the two of us a flight tonight" He said softly.

"I have already done so, dear. I shall have you picked up in Paris when you arrive. You are to take the 3'o clock red eye from New York. You have two hours I do believe." She answered. Erik smiled into the phone. Still mothering him.

"Did you tell Christine about his bargain?" She asked. Erik's heart dropped down to his toes. He gripped the phone tightly in his hand.

"Only what she needed to know, Antoinette." He said darkly. He could just see her glaring at the phone.

"Erik, she will find out soon enough, you cannot protect her from everything!" Antoinette sighed. Erik clenched one of his fists.

"The hell I can't!" Erik growled.

"Keep your voice down!" Antoinette hissed. "She needs to be aware that that man is not just after money Erik. He swore that if he couldn't have Christine, no one could. The man is mad Erik!" Antoinette cried. Erik bit his lip.

"I know. I wish there were some other way." He whispered.

"Erik, she needs to be on her guard, but she has to come back to France for Meg's sake." Antoinette said softly. Erik shut his eyes tightly.

"I don't know if I can bring her back on stage with me."

"What? Why?" Antoinette asked. Erik shook his head.

"Do you realize how much danger that would be putting her in? I could not live with myself if I willingly put Christine in harm's way." He growled.

"Don't you back out on me like this Erik! You said yourself that Christine had to perform or the press would think something was up! She's become a part of the show! I care about Christine too, but she's the key! Think of my daughter Erik!" Erik slammed his fist down on the night stand beside him.

"Dammit, I won't see her placed in danger!" He roared.

Antoinette remained silent, and Erik heard a bag hit the ground behind him. He whirled around to see Christine standing behind him, confusion written on her face. Erik cursed and told Antoinette that he would be in France at the designated time. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he stood to face her.

"Christine..." He began. She shook her head.

"You don't have to protect me Erik." She whispered. Erik cursed himself again.

"How much did you hear?" He asked.

"Enough to know that Alex has somehow threatened me as well and you won't let me back on stage." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Christine, I cannot allow it." He said firmly, standing tall over her. She glared up at him.

"Erik, Meg could die if we make one false move. I refuse to sacrifice her for my own skin!" She cried. Erik's eyes flashed and he threw his arms about her, hauling her deadly close to his face.

"I will not let you do this. I will not lose you Christine." He growled. Christine stared into his molten eyes and shook her head sadly.

"It's not your place to decide what I should do Erik. I need to do this for Meg. Please understand. I won't do anything stupid, but I cannot risk Alex's temper to flare because I'm not following his instructions." She said softly, touching his visible cheek.

Erik shut his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You will not listen to me will you?" He asked, eyes still closed. Christine searched his pained features.

"When it comes to another human life...no I will not." She said defiantly. Erik opened his eyes and shook his head.

"Then let us return."


End file.
